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TABLE    OF    CONTENTS 


Introduction         .... 

A  Story  Which  Thrills,     By  J.  H.  Clark 

Six  Boys  from  One  Family.     By  Mrs.  S.  A.  Gilson 

A  Eomauce  of  the  War.     By  James  Harrolton 

A  Christmas  in  War  Times.    By  S.  T.  Muffly 

The  Wreck  and  the  Rescue.     By  George  Pritcheit 

Sherman  Knew  After  All.     By  R.  P.  Kendall 

Told  at  the  Sugar  Camp.     By  Mary  A.  Sawyer 

He  Got  the  Mule 

Not  Time  to  Send  for  the  Colonel.     By  Annie  Wittenmyer 

War  on  the  Plains.     By  F.  E.  Miller 

A  Friendship  Made  on  the  Field.     By  E.  T.  Lee 

Sent  Ahead  of  the  Column.     By  Joseph  Ray 

Four  Dollars  a  Month  Now 

Memories  of  the  24th  Iowa.     By  E.  M.  Cook 

One  Leaf  from  a  Soldier's  Memory.     By  James  Hane 
f    When  Lincoln's  Funeral  Car  Passed.     By  L.  S.  Griswold 

A  Fighting  Editor.     By  Annie  Wittenmyer 
'     Chickamauga's  Bloody  Field.     By  John  Currie 

My  First  Serious  Adventure.     By  James  B.  Cooper 

First  Hero  of  the  Civil  War.     By  Annie  Wittenmyer 

Out  of  the  Jaws  of  Death.     By  J.  J.  Warner 

A  Very  Timely  Arrest.     By  Annie  Wittenmyer 

Jimmie.     By  Ed.  J.  Maxwell 

Projectiles  for  Rifled  Cannon 

A  Thrilling  Experience.     By  Wilber  H.  Webber 

The  loth  New  Jersey  at  Fredericksburg.     By  Enos  G.  Budd 

The  24th  Illinois  at  Stone  River.     By  John  Currie 

Two  Close  Calls.     By  Stephen  F.  Blanding 

Not  at  all  Military        .... 

A  Tragedy  of  Prison  Life.     By  Ed.  P.  Snyder 
<    Their  Hair  Stood  on  End.     By  Charles  E.  Belknap 

Where  Bullets  Flew  Thick.     By  Richmond  Wolcott 

Exciting  Adventures  of  a  Scout 

They  Lost  Two-Thirds.     By  Edward  J.  Miller 
'   A  Trifle  More  Exciting  Than  Expected.     By  M.  A.  Butterfield 

A  Mother  of  the  War.     By  Stephen  F.  Blanding     . 

Nip  and  Tack  for  Life.     By  C.  H.  Goodrich 

Special  Orders  No.  177.     By  Sidney  T.  Muffly 
\    First  Dash  at  Petersburg  . 

I  Jimmy  Barron's  Whale.     By  John  Cary 
\  Red  Strings  of  Carolina.    By  Sidney  T.  Muffly 

First  Experiences  at  Petersburg.    Bv  F.  E.  Miller 


TRIBUNE    MONTHLY. 


Vt  * 


VOL.   V.  MARCH,    1893.  NO.   3. 


True  Stories  of  the 

War  Tor  the  Union 


Personal   Experiences    and    Observations    of    Union 
Soldiers  in  the  Several  Campaigns. 


LIBRARY    OF    TRIBUNE    EXTRAS: 
$2.00    per    year ;    single    copies,    50    cents. 


THE    TRIBUNE    ASSOCIATION, 

1893. 


r  / 


INTRODUCTION. 


The  NeT-York  Tiibiine  has  for  many  years 
devoted  a  page  in  each  issue  of  its  Weekly 
edition  (and  in  one  issue  per  week  of  its  Semi- 
Weekly  edition)  not  only  to  news  of  interest  to 
Union  yclerans,  but  to  tales  of  the  War  for  the 
Union,  \%Tit.ten  by  Union  soldiers  and  sailors  -nho 
actually  took  part  in  the  incidents  narrated,  or 
who,  at  least,  -nere  mtnesses  to  the  stirring  ad- 
ventures described  by  them.  Many  of  these 
tales  have  a  value  beyond  that  which  they  i>os- 
sess  as  narratives  of  the  heroic  deeds  of  Amer- 
ican manhood.  They  frequently  attain  the 
dignity  of  genuine  contributions  to  the  history 
of  war.  That  which  the  private  soldiers  and 
company  officers  saw  is  as  necessary  to  a  true 
understanding  of  the  war  as  are  the  general 
movements  of  large  bodies  of  troops  and  the 
final  results  of  battles  and  campaigns,  which 
have  already  been  so  copiously  reported  by  the 
brigade,  division  and  coips  commanders. 

The  Tribune  has  taken  great  pleasure  in 
bringing  out  and  placing  on  record  the  stories 
of  the  men  who  did  the  actual  fighting.  Twice 
before  it  has  published  volumes  containing  the 
best  of  these  stories  ;  and  it  now  contributes  to 
the  i>ennanent  history  of  the  war  a  third  series 
of  these  stories  ■uTitten  by  Union  soldiers  for 
The  Weekly  Tribune. 

A  glamour  of  romance  aitlaches  especially  to 
the  great  wars  and  chi^alrio  exploits  of  the  dis- 
tant past ;  and  the  WTiters  of  fiction  are  fond  of 
incorporating  in  their  works  the  stirring  ad- 
ventures of  the  time  of  the  Crusades,  the  wars  of 
Napoleon,  the  military  exploits  of  Egypt,  Rome 
and  Greece,  and  the  exciting  deeds  of  the  Amer- 
ican Revolution.  But  no  deeds  more  heroic,  no 
adventures  more  romantic  and  no  incidents 
more  novel  and  strilcing  were  ever  witnessed  in 
any  war  than  can  be  related  of  the  War  for  the 
Preservation  of  the  American  Union.  Of  these 
latter  every  American  youth  should  read.  And 
it  is  especially  necessary  that  he  should  read  of 
them  now,  in  these  piping  times  of  peace,  when 
every  iniiuence  which  will  foster  a  true  love  of 
country  and  the  purest  spirit  of  devoted  Amer- 
icanism is  so  necessary  to  the  welfare  of  the 


great  Republic.  A  large  number  of  American 
families  sent  no  representative  from  their  mem- 
bership to  bear  arms  for  the  Union.  Among 
these  families  (and,  strange  to  say,  among  some 
of  the  others)  there  are  too  often  found  at  this 
day  men  to  whom  it  comes  easy  to  scoff  at  the 
Union  veteran  and  to  underrate  his  sei'vices  to 
fhe  country.  They  do  not  know  whereof  they 
speak.  Let  every  American  youth  read,  if  he 
will,  the  reports  of  the  great  generals ;  but  let 
him  also  read  The  Tribune's  stories  from  the 
pens  of  privates  and  company  officers.  The 
former  will  instruct  him  in  the  general  history 
of  the  war.  The  latter  vdll  inspire  him  with  a 
sentiment  of  deepest  love  of  his  country  and 
countrymen.  He  will  leam  from  these  to  be 
grateful  for  the  services  of  the  Union  volun- 
teers, proud  of  their  manhood,  thankful  to  be 
one  of  their  countrymen,  and  filled  with  the 
deepest  respect  and  admiration  for  their  char- 
acter. The  man  who  once  comes  to  understand 
the  motives,  the  personal  character,  the  sacri- 
fices and  the  dreadful  sufferings  of  the  volun- 
teers of  the  Union  Army  and  NaA7  will  never 
again  be  fond  of  the  company  of  those  who 
think  that  the  Union  volunteer  "has  been  paid 
enough"  for  his  services  and  that  he  is  not 
worthy  of  the  highest  honors  the  oountiy  can 
bestow. 

There  is  no  politics  in  The  Tribune's  War 
Stories.  Nevertheless,  many  of  them  uncon- 
sciously, entirely  without  intention,  answer 
many  of  the  attacks  which  it  suits  the  conven- 
ience of  the  Democratic  party  to  make  on  the 
Union  volunteer  and  the  system  of  pensions. 
Those  ^^•ho  have  so  little  knowledge  of  the  war 
as  to  believe  that  the  Union  Army  was  made  up 
largely  of  "  bounty  jimipers"  should  read  "  The 
Boys  of  the  Color  Company"  on  the  following 
pages.  It  is  within  the  memory  of  eveiy  one 
who  was  of  age  at  the  time  of  the  war  that  that 
graphic  story  presents  the  exact  picture  of  how 
the  troops  were  raised  and  the  material  of  which 
they  were  composed  in  all  parts  of  the  Northern 
country.  These  were  the  kmd  of  men  who 
were  the  Union  volunteers. 


TROE  STORIES  OF  TRE  WftR  FOR  TRE  ONION 


Personal    Experiences     and     Observations    of     Union     Soldiers    in 

tlie    Several    Campaigns. 


OUR      CHIVALRY     IN      BLUE 


A      STOBY      WHICH      THRILLS. 

THE  BOYS  OF  THE  COLOE  COMPANY. 

THE   WAY  THE  REGIMEKTS   WERE   RAISED-THE 
MEN   WHO   COMPOSED  THEM-FATE  OF 
THE  3J0YS  OF  A  COMPANY  OF 
THE   H5TH    N.    Y. 
(From  The  WeeWy  Tribune  of  January  18.) 
*'  Without    a    single    officer    and    with    only 
twenty   of  the  boys."      That  is  the  way  one 
company— the  color  company  of  the  regiment 
-returned  from  the  war.     Of  IGO  officers  and 
men   borne   on  the    company    rolls,   who  had 
marched    a-n-ay    from    home    and    family    and 
friends,  only  twentv  came  back,  bringing  with 
them  "two  tattered  and  battle-stained  flags." 
The  story   as  told  elsewhere  in  this  paper  is 
only  the  plain,  unstudied  nanative  of  a  A^et- 
Gian  who  was  pari  of  it  all,  from  the  meeting 
in  the  little  church  in  the  village  where  the 
pastor   and  the  Sundav-sch:  ol   superintendent, 
the  farmer  boys  and  mechanics  put  their  names 
to  the  muster-roll,  to  the  day  when  the  twenty 
brought  back   their   tattered    flags   with    high 
and  honorable  pride,   not   uinnixed   with   sad- 
ness,   and   were   mustered   out.     To  say   of   a 
■story  that  it  is  "  as  good  as  a  novel,"  or  "  as 
interesting    as    a    romance,"    passes    for    high 
praise.      But  this  story  of  Company  H  of  the 
115th  New- York  is  better  and  more  interest- 
ing than  either,  without  suggesting  any  com- 
parison ;  it  is  so  unlike  anything  in  the  form 
of  fiction.     There  is  no  play  of  the  imagination 
in  it :  a  more  simple  and  unaffected  recital  of 
a  series  of  stirring  events  could  hardly  be  con- 
ceived :   and   yet  few  readers,    we   venture  to 
say.  A^ill  finish  its  perusal  without  the  quiver- 
ing of  the  lips,   the  rising  in  the  throat,   the 
moisture  in  the  eye  which  betoken  sympathy 
and  deep  emotion. 

But  it  is  only  one  of  hundreds  of  just  such 
stories  that  the  rural  communities,  the  villages 
and  small  towns  throughout  the  North  could 
furnish  of  the  war  period  and  the  active  part 
these  little  centres  of  population  took  in  the 
great  tragedy.  There  is  a  distinctness  of  de- 
tail, a  realistic  presentation  of  local  and  per- 
sonal  characteristics  and  a  homely   simplicity 


of  narrative  about  this  story  that  make  it 
vastly  more  effective  than  any  studied  elabo- 
ration or  effort  of  art.  To  the  old  it  will 
bring  back  with  vivid  clearness  the  scenes  at 
the  opening  of  the  war ;  the  war  meetings  in 
town  halls  and  v.llage  churches  and  district 
schoolhouses  ;  the  universal  thrill  of  awakened 
patriotism  that  went  through  all  the  land  to 
the  smallest  hamlet  and  remotest  farm  ;  the 
stir  and  movement  of  the  great  uprising  ;  the 
massing  of  troops,  the  marching  away,  the 
long,  wearisome  waiting  for  news  from  camp 
and  field  and  hospital,  the  hopes  and  fears,  the 
joys  and  sorro\^s,  which  through  the  four 
years  of  -nar  kept  the  whole  people  tense,  eager 
and  expectant.  To  the  young  it  may  serve  as 
a  stimulant  to  patriotism  and  perhaps  a»s  a  re- 
buke to  selfish  love  of  ease  and  indiiJ'erence 
to  public  concerns.  And  no  one,  young  or  old. 
can  fail  to  be  attracted  by  its  simplicity  and 
unaffected  pathos. 

It  is  well,  too,  to  remember  in  these  piping 
times  of  peace,  when  v^e  are  beginning  to  tallc 
about  the  enormous  cost  to  the  country  of  pro- 
viding for  the  surviving  soldiers  of  the  war 
and  the  widows  and  orphans  of  those  who 
laid  down  their  fives  for  the  Union,  that  it  is 
to  such  men  as  these  of  Company  H,  all  true 
men,  brave,  honest  and  self-sacrificing,  that 
wQ  owe  the  existence  of  the  Government ;  but 
for  them  we  should  not  have  been  a  Nation. 


Half  Moon,  N.  Y.,  Jain.  14.— In  July,  1862, 
the  writer  of  this  sketch,  then  a  rosy-cheeked  boy, 
waS  raking  and  binding  rye  in  a  field  on  hia 
father's  farm  in  Saratoga  County,  N.  Y.,  and 
was  in  a  deep  study  over  President  Lincoln's 
I'ecent  proclamation  calling  for  600,000  men  to 
put  down  the  Rebellion.  I  was  descended  from 
patriotic  ancestry.  On  my  mother's  side  they 
fought  for  liberty  in  the  Eevolution.  On  my 
father's  si<h>  by  my  great-grandfather  was  a  sol- 
dier, and  lost  his  eyesight  during  a  great  sa.nd- 
ptorm  on  the  desert  of  Arabia.  I  inherited  love 
of  country ;  and  the  firing  on  Fort  Sumter 
stirred  my  patriotic  blood.  I  relate  minutiae  in 
detail  because  they  fairly  describe  the  situa- 
tion in  thousands  of  homes  all  over  the  North; 
and  thousands  upon  thousands  of  other  boys 
were  led  to  go  out  in  defence  of  their  country 
hy  similar  ways,  facts  and  sentiments.  I  began 
to  feel  that  the  work  on  the  farm  was  tame 
and    of    small    importance.     It    was    with    great 


LIBEAPY    OF    TEIEUNE    EXTRAS. 


diflSculty  that  I  restrained  the  fire  of  youthful 
impatience  and  patriotism.  As  I  mowed  along 
in  my  monotonous  work  my  mind  became  made 
up.  Suddenly  turning  around  to  my  cousin,  who 
was  raking  and  binding  rye  at  my  side  and 
who  was  a  much  younger  boy,  I  said :  "  Henry, 
win  you  enhst  if  I  do  ?'' 

"Yes,"  replied  Henry,  with  spirit,  "if  you 
enlist,    I  will." 

Sticking  the  handle  of  my  raike  into  the 
ground,  and  remarking  that  I  had  bound  my 
last  sheaf  of  rye,  I  started  for  the  house,  meet- 
ing father  on  the  way.  He  looked  surprised  that 
I  had  quit  work  at  that  time  of  day  and  in 
such  a  hurrying  time ;  but  he  said  nothing, 
neither  did  I  say  anything  to  him  about  what 
I  intended  to  do,  although  I  wondered  what 
he  would  think  when  he  found  out  that  he 
had  lost  both  of  his  boys,  with  nearly  all  of 
the  harvest  still  to   be  gathered. 

Upon  reaching  the  house  I  had  not  the  heart 
to  eay  anything  to  mother  about  it,  although 
quite  sure  that  she  would  approve  of  my  purpose, 
although  it  would  cause  her  many  a  pang.  Hur- 
riedly changing  my  clothes,  I  made  my  way  rapid- 
ly to  the  little  village  of  Clifton  Park,  close  at 
hand,  and  securing  a  team  and  wagon  made  ar- 
rangements for  taking  a  load  of  men  and  boys  ac- 
companied by  fifers  and  drummers  and  flags  and 
singers  to  a  war  meetihg  which  was  to  be  held 
that  night  in  the  church  in  the  village  of  Half 
Moon,  only  a  few  miles  away.  Similar  meeti'ngs 
were  beitg  held  in  the  churches  in  all  the  neigh- 
boring villages  to  secure  volunteers  for  Captain 
Smith's  new  company. 

The    church    was    crowded    with    people.     The 
pulpit  and  walls  were  covered  with  flags.     Stir- 
ring speeches  were  made  by  George  B.  Lorrihier, 
of  Boston,   and    Captain   Smith.     Patriotic   songs 
were  sung  by  the  glee  clubs,  the  bands  played, 
and  the  pastior  of    the    church    kissed    the    flag 
draped  behind   the  pulpit,   pledging  hitaself  as  a 
volunteer  in  the  company,   and  his   congregation 
to  eternal  fidelity  to  the  Union.     There  was  wild 
enthusiasm,    and    the    scene    was    indescribable. 
Volunteers  were  then  called  for.   and  enlistment 
papers  were  passed  do'wn  the  aisles  for  tlie  par- 
pose  of  giving  the  boys  a  chance  to  enlist.     All 
were  watching  with  intiense  interest  to  see  who 
would  volunteer.     Some  of  those  who  did  enlist 
were  pretty  old  men,  nevertheless  we  called  them 
aH   "boys."       The  pastor  of  the  church   passed 
down  the    aisle    where  I  was    seatied    with    one 
paper,  but  did  not  offer  it  to  me  as  he  did  to  the 
others.     I  had   come   down  on   purpose  to   enlist 
and  needed  no  urging,  but  I  suppose  he  tho,ught 
I  liooked  too  young  and  boyish  for  a  soldier.     His 
ideal  of  a  soldier  was  a  great  broad-chested  stal- 
wart man  about  forty  years  of  age.     This  ideal 
he  slightly  modified  later   on.     The  superintend- 
ent of  the  Sunday-school,  Samuel  Peters,  who  was 
also  the  leading  physician,  was  going  out  as  one 
of  the  surgeons  of  the  regiment.     The  neighbor- 
ing Methodist  prea_cher,   Eev.   S.  W.   Clemins,  an 
eloquent  speaker  and  patriotic  man,  put  his  name 
down  as  a  private,  afterward  becoming  the  only 
chaplaili   the   regiment   ever    had.     The    superin- 
tendent of  his  Sunday-school  followed  his  exam- 


ple.    These  enlistments  of  representative  men  had 
a  powerfuli  influence. 

I  was  indignant;  "Father  Abraham''  was  call- 
ing tor  the  boys  to  come  and  help  save  the 
country,  and  I  was  not  even  asked  to  enlist. 
Subduing  my  feelings  as  much  a^  possible,  I 
called  the  pastor  back  and  asked  him  to  let 
me  see  his  paper,  which  he  reluctantly  did, 
when  I  quickly  put  my  name  down.  "  Enlisted  for 
three  years,  or  during  the  war;"  supposing,  how- 
ever, that  it  was  only  for  two  years.  My 
cousin,  who  said  he  would  enlist  if  I  did,  was- 
seated  right  behind  me,  so  I  turned  round  and 
requested  him  to  put  his  name  down,  but  he 
quietly  said  he  guessed  not.  However,  the 
next  morning,  before  I  was  out  of  bed,  he  wa& 
in  my  bedroom,  and  then  and  there  enlisted 
as  a  drummer  boj\  He  was  my  first  recruit. 
I  confess  that  there  were  times  in  the  years- 
that  followed  when  I  almost  regretted  having, 
called   the  pa-stor   back. 

KECRUITING-  FOR  MEX. 
Bright  and  early  the  next  morning,  after  in- 
forming father  and  mother  of  what  I  had  done- 
and  gaining  their  approval,  I  started  out  with, 
enlistment  papers  to  visit  the  boys  and  men 
of  my  acquaintance  on  the  surrounding  farms. 
I  told  them  the  simple  story  of  my  enlistment,  and 
asked  them  to  volunteer,  which  they  nearly  all 
did,  although  the  farmers  would  be  obliged  to- 
call  upon  the  mothers  and  daughters  to  help, 
secure  the  harvest,  since  the  boys  were  nearly 
all   going   to    the   war. 

It  is  indeed  a  wise  and  merciful  provision  of 
Providence  that  men  cannot  foresee  the  events 
of  the  future,  although  some  of  the  boys  who- 
enlisted   that  day   did  not  fare  so  badly. 

Orlando  Swartwout  got  up  from  his  dinner 
table  and,  while  talking  at  the  door  for  a 
moment,  put  down  his  name,  served  clean  through 
the  war,  was  wounded  twice,  and  is  now  a. 
prosperous   batuker   in  an   Ohio    city. 

James  W.  Hicks,  son  of  the  patriotic  Justice  of 
the  Peace,  I  found  in  the  barn ;  he  said  he 
would  go ;  as  he  was  only  seventeen,  we  stepped 
over  to  his  father's  office  to  get  his  writt^en 
consent,  which  was  readily  given,  although  the 
Judge  thought  James  pretty  young ;  our  comrade 
came  back  home  in  a  coffin. 

Peter  Butler  lived  the  fourth  house  from  us; 
and  although  Peter  became  one  of  the  company 
cooks  he  always  carried  a  gun  in  battle,  and 
at  the  charge  of  Fort  Gilmer  seized  the  flag 
Avhon  the  color-sergeant  fell,  rand  gallantly  led 
the  regiment  until  he,  too,  fell,  wounded.  Com- 
ing back  home  again,  lilie  many  more,  he  found 
his  occupation  gone,  so  with  a  large  family 
of  small  cliildren  he  moved  to  the  city  to  get 
work.  He  tried,  but  faile<l  ;  starvation  haunted 
his  home.  One  night,  coming  home  sick,  that, 
brave  man  found  his  wife  helpless  on  tlie  bed 
with  one  of  her  children  clasped  in  her  arms  a 
corpse,  dead  from  hunger.  Nearly  distracted,  the- 
poor  man  ran  out  for  a  doctor  for  his  wife^ 
and  on  returning  found  that  she,  too,  was  dead. 
In  the  dead  of  night,  out  in  the  country  {"  God's 
country"),  Farmer  Jones  heard  some  object  fall 
heavily   upon  his   stoop,   and    thought  he   heard! 


TEUE    STOEIES    OF    THE    WAE    FOE    THE    UNION. 


a  groan.  Getting  out  of  bed,  he  found  the 
insensible  form  of  Peter  Butler  lying  there.  The 
veteran  had  walked  nine  miles  to  a  neighbor's 
near  his  old  home  to  get  help,  and  fell  before 
reaching  the  door.  Peter  did  not  go  back  to 
the  city  nor  look  again  for  work.  His  work 
on  earth  was  done.  He  died  in  Farmer  Jones's 
home,  and  he  has  been  quietly  sleeping  in  the 
village  cemetery   for   these   many  years. 

WiU  Shants  was  working  in  the  field  when  I 
called  on  him  with  my  enlistment  papers.  I  held 
the  paper  against  a  raU  fence  while  he  signed. 
A  brave  soldier,  twice  wounded,  and  at  length 
safely  home. 

Wesley  Hayner's  young  wife  said  she  would 
never  say  he  should  not  go;  she  was  for  the 
Union.  He  went.  During  the  charge  at  the 
crater  before  Petersburg,  when  the  thermometer 
was  more  than  100  degrees  in  the  shade,  Wesley 
received  a  sunstroke  which  finally  carried  him  otT ; 
he  was  "mustered  out."  Some  time  later,  the 
dead  body  of  his  faithful  wife  was  found  float- 
ing in  the  Hudson. 

Losee  Filkins  left  the  toll-gate  and  put  on  the 
blue.     He  now  lives  a  retired  and  quiet  life. 

On  a  lovely  Sunday  the  pastors  of  the  four 
neighboring  churches  preached  their  farewell  ser- 
mon. All  the  "  boys"  were  there.  So  were  their 
mothers,  sisters,  sweethearts  and  wives.  The 
services  were  solemn  and  affecting.  The  com- 
pany camped  in  a  meadow  near  the  village  of 
Fonda,  where  the  regiment  was  forming.  It  was 
soon  full  and  more  than  full.  An- 
other regiment  was  formed  with  the 
surplus  men.  Without  taking  time  to  drill, 
the  115th  New-York  Volunteers  hurried  off  to  the 
front  on  the  swiftest  trains  and  in  a  few  days 
were  under  the  fire  of  the  enemy. 

After  various  arduous  services  and  many  hard- 
ships we  found  ourselves  in  South  Carolina. 
Early  in  18  64  General  Gillmore  resolved  to  send 
an  expedition  into  Florida  to  stir  up  the  enemy- 
there.  He  did  not,  however,  contemplate  bring- 
ing on  a  general  engagement,  for  he  hastily  fol- 
lowed the  expedition  in  person  and  expressly 
charged  the  commanding  officer  to  avoid  doing 
so.  For  the  purpose  of  the  invasion  all  the 
available  troops  in  the  department,  both  white 
and  black,  were  concentrated  at  Hilton  Head  and 
placed  under  the  command  of  General  Seymour. 
On  February  4  marching  orders  were  issued  to 
the  entire  command  to  carry  six  days'  rations, 
three  of  them  in  liaversacks,  all  tents,  camp 
equipages  and  baggage  to  be  left  behind.  This 
looked  like  active  service  and  long  marches. 
Late  in  the  afternoon  of  the  6  th  the  entire  divis- 
ion, 7,000  men,  embarked  on  thirty-five  steamers 
and  transports  and  sailed  for  Jacksonville.  The 
next  afternoon  just  as  the  sun  was  sinking  out  of 
sight,  bathing  the  deep  blue  sky  in  a  blaze  of  glory, 
the  fleet  suddenly  appeared  before  the  city.  The 
inhabitants  were  surprised.  The  vessels  were  gay 
with  National  bunting,  decks  crowded  with  sol- 
diers and  bands  all  playing.  The  first  mate  of 
the  steamer  General  Hunter  and  a  colored  soldier 
of  the  55th  Massachusetts  were  shot,  but  without 
other  violence  we  took  peaceable  possession  of 
the   city. 


Camp  Finnegan,  ten  milee  distant,  the  largest 
in  the  State,  was  charged  and  captured  at  mxd- 
nighti,  the  garrison  fleeing  to  the  swamps.  Bald- 
win was  taken  on  the  9  th  and  Sanderson  on  the 
11th.  We  were  kept  busy  day  and  night  making 
raids.  The  long  and  tedious  marches  in  various 
directions  through  swamps  and  the  fording  of 
rivers  continued  untjU  we  were  pretty  M'ell  ex- 
hausted. Garrisons  were  left  at  all  of  the  places 
captured,  reducing  our  advancing  army  to  5,000. 
men. 

CAHNAGE   AT   OLUSTEE. 

On  the  morning  of  the  20th,  very  much  fatigued; 
by  our  hard  marches,  and  after  eating  a  light 
breakfast  without  coffee,  we  moved  forward  rap- 
idly to  a  point  near  Olustoe,  about  eighteen  miles 
distant.  The  boys  seemed  in  good  spirits.  The 
woods  and  swamps  bore  an  innocent  and  peace- 
ful look,  and  danger  seemed  far  away.  All  at 
once  the  report  of  a  single  gun,  sharp  and  startling, 
was  heard  in  our  front.  The  order  to  halt  was 
abruptly  giVen.  Why  stop  for  a  single  gun? 
Why  not  march  on?  Climbing  the  raUroad 
bank  t>o  learn  the  cause.  I  saw  an  unexpected 
scene.  In  an  open  space  of  ground  on  the  edge 
of  a  piece  of  woods  in  our  immediate  front  was 
a  long  and  heavy  skirmish  line  of  the  enemy.  An 
equal  number  of  the  boys  in  blue  were  advanc- 
ing to  driVe  them  back.  After  a  stubborn  fight 
the  enemy  disappeared  into  the  woods.  In  that 
wood  lay  concealed  in  ambuscade  an  army  of  16,- 
000  men  drawn  hurriedly  from  Georgia,  North 
and  South  Carolina  and  Florida.  The  treetops 
were  swarming  with  expert  riflemen  who  soon, 
did  fearful  execution.  We  were  soon  to  receive 
our  first  great  baptism  of  blood. 

Our  batteries  of  artillery  went  thundering  past 
and  disappeared  in  the  woods.  We  heard  thera 
fire  once  or  twice ;  then  there  was  a  sharp  rattle 
of  musketry  for  a  few  moments,  and  all  was  as 
stUl  as  death— painfully,  oppressively  silent.  The 
sharpshooters  had  done  their  deadly  work.  The 
batteries  were  annihilated,  the  horses  were  all 
shot  and  piled  up  in  heaps,  and  the  officers  and 
men  were  nearly  all  killed  and  wounded. 

The  infantry  were  now  ordered  forward  at  a 
double  quick  in  great  liaste.  Our  regimei'it  num- 
bered 578,  all  told,  officers  and  men,  and  was 
under  the  command  of  Colonel  Samraons,  who 
rode  up  and  down  the  line  during  the  battle, 
though  desperately  wounded.  Of  this  num- 
ber, during  the  next  three  hours  more  than 
300  men  were  killed  or  wounded.  The  odds 
against  us  were  desperate.  It  seemed  madness 
lor  us  to  attack.  Nevertheless,  we  almost  won,  yet 
lost  the  battle.  The  valor  of  no  5,000  men  an 
earth  could  ever  have  gained  the  day.  Oh,  for 
a  reinforcement  of  5,000,  or  even  2,000,  men 
equally  brave  to  come  to  our  support  at  sun- 
down I     Then  we  might  have  won. 

Our  two  file  leaders  and  the  tallest  men  in 
our  company  that  day  were  Philip  Link  and 
Charles  H.  Mulliken.  If  Ihey  had  not  been  so 
tall,  perhaps  they  might  both  have  been  alive 
to-day.  Charlie  was  youiig  and  strong,  and 
seemed  sure  of  a  long  life,  but  he  was  the 
first  one  to  die,  shot  through  the  head  as  we 
were    charging    upon    the    foe.     It    seemed    cruel 


LIBEAEY    or    TEIBUNE    EXTRAS. 


to  leave  his  body  alone,  although,  his  spirit 
had  fled.  His  father,  the  village  blacksmith, 
waiting  in  Ms  declining  years  for  his  son's 
return,  would  never  again  see  the  arm  of  his 
stalwart  son  striking  the  anvH  in  his  shop. 
Philip  Link  was  an  old,  white-haired  man ;  he 
was  destined  never  to  go  back  to  run  the 
old  gristmill  at  home,  lor  while  ih  the  front 
line  of  battle  a  rifleman  in  a  treelop  fixed  his 
gaze  on  the  old  man,  and,  raising  his  rifle,  fired. 
Uncle  Philip  turned  black  in  the  face,  threw 
up  his  hands  amd  fell  forward,  shot  through 
the  head.  Our  dead  were  never  buried  and 
their  bones  bleached  under  the  Southern  sky. 

George  D.  Cole,  shot  through  both  thighs,  the 
left  leg  and  body,  was  left  on  the  field  to 
die.  But  he  fought  oft"  the  buzzards,  and  alter 
lying  on  the  field  for  three  days  and  spend- 
ing one  month  at  Andersonville,  he  still  lives 
and    shovels    coal. 

Our  company  was  the  color  company  and 
guarded  the  flags.  The  flags  were  beautiful  ones, 
and  had  been  presented  to  tlie  regiment  by  the 
ladies  at  home  at  a  cost  of  more  than  $1,000. 
We  had  promised  never  to  allow  them  to  be  cap- 
tured by  tjie  enemy.  The  force  in  o,ur  front  tried 
hard  to  destroy  the  color  guard  and  cut  down  the 
flags.  Their  riflemen  took  deadly  aim  and  mowed 
down  our  men  fearfully.  Solid  ranks  charged, 
but  were  driVen  back.  How  Charlie  Fellows,  of 
pur  own  company,  and  Peter  J.  Keck,  of  Company 
1j,  who  held  aloft  the  flags,  ever  escaped  death 
God  bimself  only  knows ;  they  ascribe  their  preser- 
vation to  the  protection  and  mercy  of  God. 
Brav£r  men  never  lived.  The  rebels  shook  the 
Stars  and  Bars  at  us.  Keck  and  Fellows  waved 
our  flags' in  defiance.  Then  came  an  awful  con- 
centrated leaden  hail  of  death.  Oscar  L.  Ackley 
was  killed.  James  Wilson,  another  boy  only 
seventjeen,  the  life  of  the  company,  the  son  of  a 
widowed  mother,  having  fired  his  own  sixty  rounds 
of  ammunition  away,  secured  a  fresh  supply  from 
a  dead  comrade's  cartridge  box.  Xievelling  his 
gun  for  the  sixty-first  time,  and  seeing  a  dense 
mass  of  the  enemy  moving  upon  us,  he  said  to 
Sergeant  Gould  in  his  usual  pleasant  way,  "  Which 
way  shall  I  aim  tjbis  time,  Alf."  He  took  good 
aim,  but  never  fired,  for  he  feM  among  the  slain 
and  one  of  the  bright  lights  of  our  campfire  and 
weary  marches  had  gone  out  forever. 

Eichard  Francis  had  been  an  old  sailor,  but  he 
must  die ;  and  he  fell  dead  at  my  feet  with  a  great 
gaping  wound,  hiis  blood  and  brains  pouring  out. 
In  imagination  I  see  the  dreadful  scene  now  as 
■vividly  as  I  did  twentj'-seven  years  ago. 

Charlie  De  Graft  was  one  of  our  nearest  neigh- 
bora  at  home.  A  bullet  struck  him  in  the  leg. 
After  the  battle  he  walked  a  littie  way  and  then 
lay  down  in  the  woods,  saying  that  he  could  go 
no  farther.  I  begged  of  him  to  make  an  effort 
or  he  would  never  see  home  again,  but  he  said 
he  was  more  comfortable  where  he  was,  so  he  re- 
mained. They  took  him  to  Andersonville,  where 
he  died,  starved  t,o  death,  August  18,  1864. 

Three  niore  of  the  boys,  badly  wounded,  died— 
James  H.  Gettings  at  Andersonville,  Andrew 
Stewart  at)  Tallahassee  and  Wiliiam  Taylor  on 
the  way  to  prison. 


Billy  Smith,  the  jolly,  good-natured  German, 
left  the  Fatherland  in  order  to  escape  military 
service  there ;  but  he  put  on  the  blue,  and  we 
lost  him  at  Olustee.  Billy  never  Icnew  what 
kUled  him.  Paul  Englehart,  a  young  German 
Roman  Catholic,  crossed  himself  and  prayed 
audibly  every  time  ho  fired  Ms  gun,  and  he  es- 
caped without  a  scratch.  Among  the  wounded 
were  Stone,  Wing,  Sampson,  Plienix  (drummer), 
Cudney,  Connelly,  Carr.  Campbell,  Brunswick, 
Van  Ho  u  sen  and  Clark. 

Night  came  at  last,  putting  an  end  to  the 
carnage.  Hardly  a  man  had  escaped  some  kind 
of  wound.  After  firing  away  all  of  the  ammuni- 
tion, including  that  found  upon  the  bo'dies  of  the 
dead  and  badly  wounded,  the  bleeding  and  ex- 
hausted survi'Tora  slowly  and  sullenly  fell 
liack,  under  cover  of  the  darkness,  sending  cheers 
of  defiance  to  the  enemy,  who  were  too  badly 
punished   to  pursue  with  vigor. 

The  month  of  May  found  us  again  in  Virginia. 
Aaron  Dillingham,  the  old  Quaker  farmer,  whoj 
to  the  surprise  of  all,  had  enlisted  in  our  com- 
pany, and  who  went  about  bidding  everybody  a 
pleasant  goodby,  not  even  forgetting  the  school 
children,  had  a  dream,  in  which  he  learned  that 
he  would  take  part  in  only  one  battle,  and  that 
he  would  escape  unharmed.  His  dream  proved 
true,  but  soon  after  his  return  he  died.  The 
picture  of  the  battle  of  which  he  dreamed  was 
vividly  T'resented  before  him.  There  were  two 
heights,  with  a  deep  valley  bet^veen.  In  the 
centre  of  tlie  valle.v  appeared  a"  railroad  track. 
On  ore  height  was  a  small  army  dressed  in 
blue,  and  on  the  opposite  one  was  a  large  army 
dressed  in  gra^.  with  many  cannons.  All  at 
once  the  men  in  gray  started  down  the  hill ;  then 
the  men  in  bltie  gave  a  wild  cheer  and  charged 
down  the  other  hillside,  reaching  the  railroad 
trick  first,  when  they  instaiitl.y  dropped  behind 
an  embankment  and  poured  a  withering  fire  into 
the  hosts  in  gray,  stopping  their  advance.  In 
the  mist  he  dimly  saw  a  fight  which  chilled  his 
blood -a  large  body  of  men  in  gray  stealing 
around  the  flank  of  a  regiment  in  blue,  which 
seemed  to  be  his  own  brothers,  and  he  felt  that 
they  were  lost,  when  suddenl.r  a,  fine-lookins 
young  soldier  from  the  midst  of  the  regiment  in 
blue  rose  up  from  the  ground,  and  at  a  glance  saw 
their  peril,  and  ir-  the  face  of  a  thousand  bul- 
lets, gave  the  alarm  :  the  men  in  blue  cut  their 
way  through  the  hosts  of  gray  and  escaped,  but 
many  scores  had  fallon  in  the  conflict,  among  the 
numl^er  being  the  fine-looking  young  soldier,  who 
had  saved  his  brothers.  This  proved  to  be  a 
description  rl  the  battle  of  Chesterfield  Heights 
and  of  our  regiment,  and  the  brave  young  soldier 
who  saved  the  regimcut  was  E.  Raymond  Fonda, 
of  our  company. 

After  numerous  battles  we  reached  the  front 
of  Petersburg.  Charles  Berry  was  killed  at 
Cold  Harbor.  At  Petersburg  we  charged  at  the 
right  of  the  crater,  wlien  the  big  fort  was  blown 
up. 

NEARLY   WIPED   OUT. 
At    the   battle    of   Deep    Bottom    the    regiment 
went  into  the  fight  with  175  muskets;  after  the 
fighting    was    over,    only    eighty    men    had    been 


TRUE    STORIES    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    THE    UNION. 


9 


left  uninjured.  Some  of  the  bravest  men  in  our 
•company  lost  their  lives  at  Deep  Bottom.  At  one 
time  during-  a  desperate  charge  of  the  enemy 
a,  part  of  tlie  Union  line  was  forced  back,  and 
our  regiment,  maintaining  its  position,  was  raked 
by  a  most  deadly  cross-fire.  The  enemy  seemed  de- 
termined to  captui-e  the  colors;  and  color-bearers 
were  shot  down  almost  as  fast  as  brave  men 
<50uld  spring  forward  and  pick  tliem  up.  But 
there  seemed  to  be  no  lack  of  men  in  our  and 
other  companies  to  give  away  their  lives  lor 
the  dear  old  flag.  While  attempting  to  plant 
Ills  flag-  on  the  rebel  works,  Sergeant  Keck  fell 
badly  wounded ;  but  Sergeant  Fellows,  close  by 
his  side,  held  his  own  flag  in  one  hand  and 
with  his  other  hand  grasped  the  falling  colors 
.and  waved  them  triumphantly  aloft.  James  K. 
P.  Himes  sprang  forward  and  said :  "  Give  me 
that  flag'"  Taking  it  in  his  hands,  he  shouted: 
"Come  on  boys!"  and  led  the  regiment.  A 
bullet  struck  him  in  the  breast  and  passed 
-tlirough  his  right  lung,  inflicting  a  mortal  wound. 
He  fell  forward  upon  his  face,  and  had  just 
time  to  gasp :  "  Charley,  I  die  for  my  country,'' 
when  his  brave  spirit  took  its  flight. 

There  was  a  slight-built  boy  in  our  company 
with  nerves  of  steel  and  great  powers  of  en- 
durance, who  never  even  took  his  ration  of  rum 
in  the  malarious  districts  of  the  Carolinas.  Tlie 
boys  made  light  of  this  at  the  time,  but  were  sorry 
-afterward  that  they  did  so.  He  was  a  lovely 
•Christian  youth,  who  never  missed  a  day's  duty 
or  a  single  battle.  His  name  was  Abbott  C. 
Musgrove.  His  love  of  country  and  flag  bordered 
on  the  sublime.  It  Avas  sure  and  certain  death 
to  any  one  who  should  dare  to  raise  the  flag 
again  ;  but,  without  a  moment's  hesitation,  this 
youth  once  again  raised  it  on  high.  A  bullet 
crashed  through  his  brain,  and  he  said,  "I 
-die  happy."  The  boys  managed  to  carry  him 
from  the  field  and,  wi-apped  in  his  suit  of  blue, 
they  laid  him  aAvay  in  a  narrow  grave,  and 
many  were  the   tears   that  were  shed. 

In  this  terrible  struggle  we  suffered  nearly  an 

irreparable  loss.    Captain  Smith,  who  had  hitherto 

-shared   •with  the  company  in   all   its  perils,   and 

-originated   and   led   it   in   many    daring  and   suc- 

oessful    undertakings,    received    various    wounds. 

His  arm,  -was  sliot  to  pieces  and  he  escaped  with 

his  life  by  the  narrowest  chance.     He  was  unable 

to  do  further  service.  No  braver  officer  served  in  the 

Union  Army.     George  Van  Der  Cook  lost  his  arm ; 

•George  Houghtaling  was  wounded  and  captured. 

Ambrose  Fowler  and  otliera  were  wou-nded.     The 

flags  were   saved    from    capture  but  with   much 

-difficulty  and  at  a  great  cost. 

On  the  29th  of  September  our  regiment  aided 
in  storming  Fort  Gilmer  and  carried  the  works 
in  its  front,  obtaining  possession  of  a  vital  point. 
Two  days  later  General  I^ee  moved  his  best  tioi  ps 
and  made  a  most  determined  assault  to  retake 
the  works,  but  was  disastrously  repulsed  with  the 
loss  of  many  battle  flags  and  the  destruction  of 
a  whole  brigade.  Sergeant  Fellows  was  a  big 
man,  weighing  at  least  240  pounds,  and  had  a 
big  heart.  He  carried  one  stand  of  colois  in  every 
•battle  from  Olustee  to  Fort  Gilmer  and  won  lasting 
^lory  and  renown.     He  usually  kept  away  in  ad- 


vance of  the  regiment.  He  planted  his  flag  on  the 
enemy's  worlcs  at  Cohl  Harbor  and  in  the  milst  of 
a  fearful  storm  of  grape  and  canister  gained  the 
crest  of  Cemetery  Hill  at  the  riglib  of  the  crater 
and  held  his  flag  there.  In  every  engagement 
he  was  a  hero.  At  Fort  Gilmer  we  lost  him. 
While  charging  the  "great  fort,  his  right  leg  was 
aliattered,  and  in  the  clianging  fortunes  of  the 
day  he  had  to  be  left  on  tiie  field,  although  the 
boys  tried  hard  to  carry  him  off.  After  lying 
tliere  for  twenty-four  hours  the  rebels  performed 
a  wetched  amputation,  which  did  not  wring  from 
him  a  single  groan.  He  was  sent  to  Annapolis 
under  parole  and  his  wife  and  father  saw  him 
die.  He  was  buried  with  military  honors  at 
his  old  home  in  Slechanicville,  where  he  sleeps  by 
tlie  side  of  the  gallant  Ellsworth.  On  the  day 
of  the  funeral  all  business  in  the,  village  was  sus- 
pended and  the  town  was  wi-apped  in  mourning. 
Above  the  pulpit  in  the  church  a  beautiful  in- 
scription   read  : 

"  He  gave  up  his  life  his  country  to  save. 
And  claimed  for  the  sacrifice  only  a  grave. '' 

Lieutenant  Filkins  was  my  old  tent-mate.  We 
fought  side  by  side  and  we  drank  out  of  the 
same  canteen.  He  was  wounded  at  Petersburg, 
and  he  now  sleeps  in  the  Union  Cemetery  at 
Crescent  with  Abram  Filkins  and  John  Silver- 
nail.  On  each  Decoratiibn  Day  Ave  place  flowers 
on  his  grave,  which  is  all  that  we  can  do. 

G«orge  Alexander  was  killed  at  Darbytown 
road.  Benjamin  Thackerah  had  his  leg  shattered 
and  Almin  E.  Stone  his  arms.  Sergeant  Van 
Housen  was  badly  wounded  twice. 

The  regiment  was  in  the  first  expedition  to 
Fort  Fisher  under  General  Butler,  and  came  near 
being  lost  at  sea  in  a  great  storm  off  the  coast 
of  North   Carolina. 

A   HOKRIBLE    EXPLOSION. 

On  the  night  of  January  3,  1865,  it  marched 
through  a  di'lA^ng  snow  storm  to  Bermuda  Hun- 
dred.s,  Va.,  and  embarked  on  the  second  expedi- 
tion to  Fort  Fisher  under  General  Terry.  On 
Sunday,  January  15,  after  seven  hours  of  desper- 
ate fighting,  the  strongest  fortification  in  America 
and  many  prisoners  were  captured.  The  next 
morning  at  8  o'clock  a  dreadful  catastrophe  oc- 
curred. While  our  regiment)  with  some  others  of 
the  brigade  were  eating  breakfast,  the  main 
magazine  of  the  fort  over  which  they  were  rest- 
ing exploded  with  a  terrible  noise,  wounding, 
bruising  and  burying  alive  nearly  the  whole  brig- 
ade. Our  regiment  wit)h  its  small  force  lost  110 
men  in  killed,  wounded  and  buried  alive.  Some 
of  the  boys  were  buried  twenty  feet  beneath  the 
mass  of  falling  shells,  timbers  and  earth,  and 
Avere  never  found.  George  T.  Hoag  and  John 
R.  Watt,  though  wounded,  were  fortunate  enough 
to  be  rescued   from  a  horrible  death. 

The  southern  fever  and  kindred  diseases  carried 
oft'  many  comrades— Everetts,  House,  Richardson, 
Shepherd,  Richards,  Hennigan,  Near,  Du^an, 
Abel.  Gettings  and  Higgins, 

HOME,    20    STRONG,    OUT    OF    IGO. 

At  last  the  cruel  war  Avas  over.  Tlie  last  enemy 
had  surrendered,  and  gallant  Company  H,  which 
had  had  1(50  officers  and  men  on  its  rolls,  marched 
tlirough   the   streets   of   the    capital    city   of  the 


10 


LIBRAJ?Y    OF    TEIJ3UXE    EXTBAS. 


Empire  State  homeward  bound  wFth  two  tattered 
and  battJe-stained  flags,  but  without  a  single 
oflficer  and  with  only  twenty  of  the  boys.  Since 
that  happy  day  some  have  crossed  over  the  river 
We  shall  never  again  hear  the  eloquent  and  per 
suasive  voice  of  Chaplain  Clemens,  the  fighting 
chaplain,  for  he  has  gone  to  his  reward.  We 
never  shall  forget  how  badly  Sam  Seymour  felt 
when  transferred  to  a  regular  battery,  but  he 
got  through  all  riglit,  and  came  back;  but  one 
day  poor  Sam  was  t"oo  sick  to  drive  his  team  on 
the  horsecar  and  went  home  to  die.  Bayard  and 
Kelley  AJlen,  Look  Northrup  and  Henry  Sbants 
have  all  been  "mustered  out."  Fred  S.  Goodrich  left 
us  to  be  a  captain  in  Colonel  Higginson's  colored 
regiment,  and  he  is  now  in  Washington  knocking 
at  the  door  of  the  House  for  admission  as  Con- 
gressman-elect from  the  De  Land  District  in 
Florida. 

Mogt  of  the  boys  are  getting  old  and  gray 
Isaac  v.  Irish,  with  onlj^  one  eye,  is  working  at 
his  trade  at  nearly  fourscore  years.  Peter 
Folinsbee  is  a  pensioner  upward  of  eighty  years  of 
age.  Johnny  IMulligan,  a  mighty  man  on  picket, 
with  a  voice  which  on  a  still  night  could  be  heard 
for  half  a  mile,  who  was  the  delight  of  the  grand 
rounds,  is,  I  think,  the  oldest  survivor  of  the 
war,  being  more  than  100  years  of  age.  Eleven 
of  the  very  bravest  and  best  men  in  the  com- 
pany through  some  protecting  Providence  managed 
to  go  through  the  storm  of  battle  to  the  end 
cf  the  war  -without  serious  wounds,  and  thes** 
living  heroCvi  claim  a  place  on  fhe  rolls  of  fame. 
They  are  comrades  Gould,  Gorliam,  William  S. 
Clemens  (son  of  the  chaplain),  Honsinger,  Halpin, 
Lappens,  Andrew  Smith,  Steinburffh.  Ezra  Stone, 
J.  H.  Van  DerCook  and  Horace  Wing.  We  are 
now  scattered,  and  our  number  is  growing  smaller. 
As  we  meet  at  our  annual  reunion  only  eight  or 
ten  of  the  "boys,"  and  some  of  these  from  distant 
States,  are  able  to  meet  to  talk  over  the  times 
wliich  tried  men's  sonls.  Our  last  reunion  on 
earth  will  soon  be  lield,  and  in  a  few  years  we 
shall  all  have  passed  over  to  the  silent  majority — 
(J.   H.    Clark. 


SIX  BOYS  FEO:\I  ONE  FAMILY. 

l\Iiddlefield,  Ohio,  Jan.  2G.— I  was  born  and  raised 
a  Eepublican,  my  fatlier,  John  Bower,  being  one  of 
the  old-time  Free  Soilers,  and  a  rank  Abolitionist. 
He  entertained  and  helped  to  run  off  many  a  poor 
"fugitive"  from  his  cruel  taskmaster  when  I  was 
a  child  at  home.  He  also  raised  six  sons,  five  of 
whom  enlisted  iti  the  Union  Anny  as  soldiers.  The 
sixth  one,  Eli  Bower,  would  have  done  the  same, 
but  his  father  was  getting  old  and  refused  to  let 
him  go.  However,  when  there  was  a  dearth  of 
workingmen  for  the  Government  the  father  con- 
sented to  let  Eli  go  as  a  mechanic. 

Eli  was  sent  to  Chattanooga  to  work  on  bridges. 
He  there  contracted  malarial  fever,  which  resulted 
in  his  death  September  4,  1865. 

Daniel  C.  Bower,  of  the  105th  O.  :M.  I.,  was  shot 
and  killed  at  the  battle  of  Chickamauga,  Decem- 
ber 19,  1863.  He  was  only  twenty-two  years  old. 
Three  of  my  brothers  in  all  went  into  that  terrible 


fight— B.    F.    Bower,    commonly    called    "Frank," 
my  oldest  brother,  David  C.  and  John  L. 

Robert  S.  Bower  was  in  the  0th  Ohio  and  in 
all  the  hard  fought  battles  in  which  the  9th  Ohio 
was  engaged.  He  was  one  of  the  very  first  to 
enlist  under  the  first  call  by  President  Lincoln  for 
three  months'  men.  He  served  out  the  time  and 
re-enlisted  tor  three  years,  or  during  the  war.  The- 
9th  was  not,  as  I  understand  it,  m  that  fight. 

Of  the  three  brothers  at  Chickamauga  only  one 
came  out  unhurt,  and  that  one  lost  lii&  captain. 
Brother  David  was  killed.  Frank  was  struck  on 
the  left  shoulder  by  a  piece  of  shell,  knocked  dowji 
and  suppof-ed  to  have  been  Idlled  ;  but  he  recov- 
ered, crawled  back  on  his  hands  and  knees  to  an 
ambulance  and  was  taken  to  the  hospital.  When 
he  was  able  to  go  he  was  sent  home  on  parole. 
He  left  us  a  stout,  healthy  man;  he  returned  to 
us  eimply  a  skeleton.  We  do  not  know  where  the- 
body  of  David  now  lies. 

John  was  an  orderly  on  General  Hazen's  staflf, 
but  was  put  into  the  ranlcs  in  times  of  battle. 
He  had  a  hors<j  at  his  command.  Receiving  the- 
news  of  brother  Daniel's  death  after  the  battle,  he 
determined  fo  secure  his  body  if  possible,  and  rode- 
out  upon  the  field  where  his  comrades  said  he 
ha(f  fallen.  He  Jiad  nearly  reached  the  spot  when 
a  body  of  rebel  cavaTry  came  yelling  down  toward? 
him.  He  was  obliged  to  turn  his  horse  and  run 
for  life.  A  bullet  grn/ed  his  cheek.  He  be- 
longed to  the  41fet  Ohio,  brother  Frank  to  the 
87th   Indiana. 

The  youngest  son,  Adolphus  C  Bower,  was- 
born  January  14,  1848,  and  enlisted  at  the  call 
for  six  months'  men.  He  was  stationed  at  Cum- 
berland Gap,  Ky.  We  hear  a  great  deal  about 
tlie  "  youngest  enlisted  soldier  of  the  war, ''  a 
number  claiming  the  honor.  My  brother  has 
never  made  a  claim,  but  we  think  there  were  few 
younger  men  tl.'an  he  in  the  ranks.  He  was  a 
large,  stout,  manly-looking  boy,  apijeariny-  much 
older  than  ne  tctIIj-  was.  When  he  returned 
after  serving  out  his  enlistment  ho  was,  as  the- 
saying  is,  "  skin  and  bones. "  He  is  noAV  working 
for  the  Elmira  Paint  Roofing  Company,  in  your 
State,  and  is  a  large  and  fine-looking  man.  He- 
writes  me  he  is  called  "  Grover  Cleveland''  by 
some,  in  consequence  of  his  resemblance  to  that 
celebrity. 

All  the  other  brothers  are  dead  excepting  .John 
L.,  who  became  a  veteran  by  re-enlisting.  He- 
was  sent  to  Galveston,  Tex.,  served  out  liis- 
enlistment,  was  discharged,  and  now  lives  in 
KaJnsas.  Frank,  John  and  Adolphus  married 
after  the  war  closed.  Frank  had  one  son,  wlio- 
is  finelj^  educated  and  is  now  a  shorthand  writer 
employed  in  an  office  in  New- York  City.  His  ad- 
dress is  118  West  Sixty-flrst-st.,  and  his  name 
Ernest  Clyde  Bower. 

Five  of  my  brothers  Ave  re  successful  school 
teachers. 

My  father  died  May  2,  1879,  of  heart  failure, 
the  result  of  hard  work.  He  was  a  man  of  noble- 
nature,  honest,  upright  and  honorable.  He  was^ 
magistrate  for  many  years,  a  colonel  and  a  cap- 
tain  in  the  State   militia. 

The  war  made  dreadful  havoc  in  our  family,  but 
I  think  we  Avould  give  it  all  again,  more  if  neect 
be,  to  save  our  countrj'^  from  destruction.— (ilrs^ 
S.  A.  Gileon. 


TEUE    STOEIES    OF    THP]    WAE    FOE    THE    UNION. 


11 


A     ROMANCE     OF     THE     WAE. 


LOCHINVAK    IN  UNION  PLUE. 


A    WILD     AND     FEARFUL    RACE    FOR    LOVE     AND 

SAFETY— AN     ACffUAL    OCCURRENCtE     OF 

THE  SHENANDOAH  VALLET. 

The  age  of  chivalry  never  witnessed  more  dar- 
ing and  romantic  deeds  than  were  wrought  during 
our  civn  war,  although  in  many  cases  the  hand  of 
genius  has  been  wanting  to  preserve  them  and  give 
them  permanent  form  in  print.  One  instance,  in 
which  Truth  was  really  stranger  than  Fiction,  hag 
been  indelibly  graven  upoii  my  mind,  having  been 
partly  enacted  before  me,  and  in  part  related  by 
those  who  shared  in  its  pathetic  and  terrible 
scenes. 

In  telling  tjie  .story  I  must  condense  acts  which 
glowed  with  dramatic  vividness  into  small  com- 
paes.  In  the  middle  of  May,  1863,  fate  brought 
us— a  detached  party  on  special  service— close  to  a 
fine  plantation  a  few  miles  back  from  the  Shenan- 
doah. The  estate  was  owned  by  Judge  Living- 
stone, a  bitter  Confederate,  who  held  the  rank 
of  Major  in  the  Southern  army.  We  were  re- 
strained from  injuring  the  mansion  and  surround- 
ings owing  to  the  fact  that]  liis»  daughter  was  a 
faithful  Unionist.  In  the  absence  of  her  father 
she  dwelt  alone,  except  that  she  retained  two 
trusty  colored  people,  old  Uncle  Jep  and  his  wife, 
the  rest  having  stampeded.  We  were  all  great  acl- 
mirerg  o,f  beauty,  and  each  day  we  were  dehghted 
with  the  spectacle  when  young  Isabel  walked  in 
the  labyrinthine  flower  garden.  Aunt  Chloe  and 
her  husband  were  familiar  and  welcome  figures 
in  our  camp,  for  they  brought  us  many  dainties 
from  the  hand  of  the  planter's  daughter. 

Not  many  days  after  we  had  pitched  camp 
Uncle  Jep  brought  a  note  from  his  young  mistress 
asking  Captain  Morse  to  come  over  to  the  house 
for  a  few  moments  on  business.  He  complied, 
and  so«n  afterward  a  rumor  flew  among  us  that 
a  wounded  Union  soldier  was  in  shelter  at  the 
mansion.  This  was  a  venturesome  thing  in  every 
way,  because  the  sentiment  of  the  neighborhood 
was  sanguinary,  and  the  wrath  of  Judge  Living- 
stone would  have  been  t;errible  had  the  facts  come 
to  his  knowledge.  But  the  old  servants  were 
true  and  kept  the  secret,  except  from  us,  who  soon 
gleaned  the  few  facts  they  knew  of  their  guest. 
He  was  a  lieutenant  in  some  Eastern  regiment. 
UnclQ  Jep  had  found  him,  badly  woamded  in  some 
foray,  on  a  distant  part  of  the  plantation. 

Isabel's  care  soon  worked  wonders,  and  soon 
after  our  arrival  she  brought  the  wounded  man 
occasionally  to  take  an  airing  on  a  rustic  seit  in 
the  garden.  He  was  very  pale,  and  moved  with 
apparent  difficulty,  but  we  were  much  pleased 
with  his  appearance,  and  as  the  days  went  by 
began  to  weave  a  little  romance  about  the  pair. 
But  the  old  colored  couple  told  ua  something 
which  greatly  aroused  our  sympathy.  Colonel 
Legare  was  a  wealthy  planter,  about  forty  miles 
up  the  river,  and  commanded  Major  Living- 
stone's regiment.  He  was  about  forty  ytars  of 
age,   a    burly,    uncouth,    swearing    bully    of    the 


woret  Southern  type.  His  morals  were  bad ;  he 
was  a  gamester  and  duelist.  Originally  a  slave 
driver,  he  had  made  his  money  in  dealing  in. 
human  chattels,  and  by  other  questionable  occu- 
pations. A  thin  veneering  of  politeness  masked 
Ilia  brutish  nature.  It  would  be  hard  to  imagine- 
a  more  unsavory  character.  But  he  wanted 
young  Isabel,  and  her  father  swore  tliat  siie 
should  marry  him.  We  had  little  to  do  alxtufc 
that  time  outside  of  the  ordinary  duties  of  camp 
life,  and  the  keeping  a  watchful  eye  on  our 
line  of  communications,  and  on  the  movements  of 
the  treacherous  guerillas.  So  the  boys  talked 
about  the  plantation  episode,  which  seemed  mure 
likely  to  end  in  ta-agedy  than  happiness. 

Before  long  Allen  Lynn,  who  had  hung  be- 
tween life  and  death  for  nearly  tihree  months  in 
his  cosey  hiding  place,  began  to  appear  among  usy 
but  always  in  the  obscurity  of  night,  for  fear 
of  endangering  both  himself  and  his  fair  hostes-s. 
He  was  a  man  of  fine  presence,  developing  gradu- 
ally into  an  Achilles  as  he  gained  strength.  We 
soldiers  thought  no  goddess  so  worthy  of  him  as- 
Isabel  Livingstone. 

so  THEY  PARTED. 

All  at  once  information  came  that  the  rebels- 
were  driving  our  army.  This  compelled  us  to 
move  without  delay  while  we  could.  The  young 
lieutenant  decided  to  join  us,  for  his  life  would 
not  be  worth  a  straw  if  Isabel's  father  and  her 
elder  brother,  Otis,  should  return.  Besides, 
Wade  Barton— a  dissolute  young  man  of  the  neigh- 
borhood—had been  seen  spying  around  for  several 
days.  This  meant  mischief,  for  Wade  Barton  had 
been  an  unwelcome  suitor,  and  his  enmity  was- 
dangerous. 

I  need  not  enlarge  upon  the  pecuUajly  sad 
leave  taking  of  the  young  man  and  woman.  They 
had,  evidently,  plighted  their  troth,  and  separa- 
tion meant  they  knew  not  what.  Beyond  those- 
rugged  hills,  fiercely  swept  by  the  storms  of  nature 
and  of  war  alike^  she  could  find  safety  until 
peace  returned,  and  with  it  her  Yankee  lover  ;  aikd 
the  whole  command  made  bold,  with  our  captain 
at  the  head,  to  march  up  to  the  front  of  the 
Judge's  house  to  beg  that  she  would  leave  this 
dreadful  place.  Lieutenant  Lynn  said  nothing, 
although  his  wishes  were  shown  plainly  enough  in- 
his  eyes.  Still  the  devoted  girl  would  not  fly— as 
she  then  might— and  leave  her  old  father  to  find 
a  desolate  home.  We  were  soon  far  away,  a'ld 
the  region  once  more  fell  into  Confederate  hands. 

Lieutenant  Lynn  left  us  at    Winchester  to   re- 
join   his     regiment,    his  liealth    recovered.      We 
missed  him  greatly,  for  he  was  a  genial,  every- 
day young  officer. 

A  number  of  months  passed— months  of  ex- 
citement and  danger.  Those  were  the  days  when 
Ewell  and  his  opponents  were  alternately  chas- 
ing each  other  up  and  down  the  ShcnamJoab 
Valley.  Several  times  that  region  had  changed 
hands.  We  were  too  busy  to  think  of  much 
except  fighting.  Yet  my  thoughts  often  recurred 
anxiously  to  the  probable  fate  of  the  muidea 
whom  we  had  left  surrounded  by  terrible  difli- 
culties.  One  day  I  chanced  to  be  at  a  station, 
where    several    hundred    colored    refugees    were 


12 


LIBEAEY    OF    TEIBUXE    EXTIUS. 


huddled  together  -waiting  for  transportation 
north,  when  whom  should  I  see  but  old  Uncle 
Jep  and  Aunt  Chloe?  The  moment  they  set 
their  eyes  upon  me  they  rushed  upon  me,  almost 
smothering  me  with  their  joyous  but  un- 
couth demonstrations.  1  wish  I  could  depict 
their  joy  on  paper,  and  had  space  to  tell  the 
■history  they  gave  me  in  their  own  racy  ver- 
nacular. 

"Lor'  bress  yer,  Massa!"    said  Uncle  Jep,  his 

•eyes  rolling  with  excitement  and  his  tongue  lollinEc 

•from  his  thick  Ups.     "  De  sight  ob  you  is  better 

dan  'possum  an'   p'simmons.     You's   de  fust  one 

Chloe    an'    me    found    of   ilassa    Linkum't*    good 

sogers  dat  Avas  kind  to  sweet  iiissy  Is'bel." 

'•Ah,  Honey!"  said  Aunt  Chloe,  with  an  extra 
■hug  of  her  brawny  black  arms.  "We'uns  is  jes' 
losted  in  all  dis  crowd  of  ord'nary  fiel'  nig- 
gers. No  dear  young  lady  any  mo',  an'  no  one 
dat  knowed  us  an'  Jceers  for  dese  po'  darkies 
•since  we'uns  left  old  Luray.  We'uns  has  'quired 
and  'quired,  but  no  good  Gunnel  Lynn,  no  dear 
Missy  Is'ljel." 

I  understood,  a^d  pitied  their  lonely  plight. 
They  were  house-servants,  and  looked  upon  them- 
selves as  of  another  caste  from  tlie  commoa  planta- 
tion "hands."  The5'  were  a  rare  old  couple. 
"When  they  had  explained  matters  I  comforted 
them  greatly  by  promising  to  try  to  help  find 
Miss  Livingston  and  Colonel  Lyim.  I  did  this 
on  my  own  account  as  well  as  theirs.  Their 
recital  brought  Aavldly  to  my  mind  the  young 
Southern  woman  and  her  brave  soldier  lover. 
They  vied  with  each  other  in  telling  me  what 
I  was  eager  to  hear.  I  will  give  the  substance  of 
■what  they  told  me  as  briefly  as  possible. 

DOOMED  TO  A  TERRIBLE  FATE. 

The  Confederates  came  soon  after  we  left ; 
•and  among  the  rest.  Otis  Livingstone  and  his 
father,  joined  soon  after  by  Colonel  L'i'gare,  who 
intruded  his  hateful  politeness  on  Isabel,  much 
to  her  disgust  and  tliat  of  her  loyal  servitors. 
Otis,  the  brother,  commanded  a  company  in 
Legare's  regiment ;  and  they  were  "  hail  fellows, 
well  met"  in  con\lviality,  although  the  younger 
man  was  of  a  far  less  brutal  nature  than  the 
■Colonel.  Wade  Barton  did  not  fail  to  insinuate 
hia  suspicions,  but  they  could  not  make  certain 
whether  the  stranger  had  not  been  one  of  our 
•command.  Un?le  Jep  and  his  wife  were  much 
persecuted,  for  their  loyalty  to  their  mistress  was 
well  known  ;  but  no  information  was  wrung  from 
them,  although  Legare  coolly  proposed  to  have 
them  tied  up  by  the  thumbs  and  flogged  until 
they  confessed.  This,  however,  was  only  bravado, 
intended  to  frighten  the  faithful  slaves,  but  not 
to  come  to  the  hearing  of  Isabel,  whose  noble 
natuie  held  the  currish  one  of  the  former  slave- 
■driver  in  awe — brave  though  he  was  in  his  way. 
One  thing  was  evident.  There  was  great  risk  if 
our  troops  happened  to  gain  permanent  pos- 
session. After  many  consultations  the  trio  de- 
termined that  the  marriage  should  be  consummated 
before  it  might  be  too  late.  Of  this  decision  the 
old  Judge  informed  the  hapless  girl,  instructing 
her  to  prepaie  the  wedding  outfit  at  once  Isabel 
wept,  and  vainly  strove  to  touch  his  paternal 
feelings. 


"Oh,  father!"  she  pleaded;  "you  cannot  be 
BO  cruel  as  to  force  me  to  marry  that  wicked 
man.  I  detest  and  despise  him.  I  wish  only 
to  remain  with  you. " 

"I  will  have  no  words  from  you,"  he  replied. 
"Tlie  next  thing,  if  I  have  to  turn  my  back,  you 
will  be  running  off  with  one  of  those  cursed 
Yankees. " 

"I  could  have  done  that  when  they  left  if  I 
had  any  wish  to  do  so, "  she  answered  ;  "  Imt  no 
one  could  make  me  leave  you,  my  dear  father." 

"  No  matter :  get  ready  without  delay.  Colonel 
Legare  is  a  true  soldier  of  the  South,  and  a  rich 
man   as   well.     01)ey   me,   my  daughter." 

Words  were  of  no  avaU.  It  lacked  only  a 
week  of  the  day  when  the  sacrifice  would  be 
made.  They  were  slow,  sorrowful  days  for 
Isabel;  and  the  old  slaves  could  offer  little  con- 
solation. 

"Keep  up  yo'  grit,  dear  Missy,"  old  Aunt  Chloe 
would  cry.  "  Yer  know  de  darkest  hour  am 
jus'  befo'  de  dawn."  Then  she  would  bieak  down 
in  a  flood  of  tears,  which  discredited  her 
courageous  words :  and  generally,  in  the  end,  the 
three  had  a  good  cry  together. 

"  I  wish  Allan  were  here ! "  Isabel  would  ex- 
claim ;  "  he  is  my  only  hope.  But  no !  It  would 
be  certain  death  for  Jiim  without  helping  me." 

.JEP    AXD    CHLOE    CONSPIRE. 

Through  all  the  half  stupor  of  her  terrihle  dis- 
tress there  was  one  thing  which  greatly  puzzled 
Isabel.  There  seemed  to  be  some  mystery  between 
Uncle  Jep  and  his  wife  which  she  could  not  un- 
derstand. A  number  of  times  they  were  aljsent 
when  needed,  and  frequently  she  came  upon  them 
unawares,  catching  them  in  the  midst  of  gro- 
tesque consultations,  bobbing  their  woolly  old 
heads  and  motioning  with  their  handg  in  a  manner 
that  made  their  young  mistress  laugh  in  spite  of 
herself.  On  the.'e  occasions  they  invariably  hung 
their  heads  and  sneaked  away  with  the  unmistak- 
ably guilty  look  of  conspirators.  Still  the  gu-1 
did  not  doubt;  their  fidelity,  and  none  the  less  that 
they  sustained  her  jn  the  determination  of  taking 
no  heed  of  her  father's  commands.  Of  cour.se  all 
this  was  not  told  me  by  the  old  people  in  so  manj' 
words,  but  I  easily  inferred  it  from  their  account 
withiMit  much  aid  of  imagination. 

"Oh,  honey!"  said  old  Aunt  Chloe,  with  pro- 
truding eyes,  "Yo'.rt  to  seen  de  heaps  an'  heaps  o"b 
fixin's  dat  de  ole  massa  sent  up.  Pow'ful  lots  ob 
money  dey  cost,  toO;,  dese  wah  times.  An'  de 
wite  wimin  a  sewin'  day  an'  night, ;  but  dat  bressed 
gal  not  so  much  as  look  at  dem  fine  tings  nor  try 
dem    on." 

Otis  Livingstone  and  Colonel  Legare  were  in- 
separable companions,  spending  most  of  their  time 
drinking  and  gambling  at  a  low  (javern  three  miles 
off.  Tills  was  during  the  lull  .-succeeding  the 
manoeuvres  which  followed  the  decisive  battle  of 
Gettysburg.  Meade  and  Lee  lay  observing  each 
other  and  watching  the  progress  of  several  mihor 
operations  at  different  points.  It  was  the  ominous 
culm  between  two  great  storms.  The  Confederate 
officers  in  that  part  of  the  valley  found  time  to 
divert  themselves  for  the  time  being  almost  with- 
out restjaint,    and   this   particular    party    found 


TEUE    STOETES    OF    THE    WAE    FOE    THE     CNION. 


IS 


plenty  of  aristocratic  planters  to  assist  them  in 
their  recreations.  Wade  Barton  wished  to  join 
them,  hut  they  considered  him  much  below  them 
socially.  Still  they  coddled  Mm  a  little,  foi  he 
might  some  time  he  useful. 

liYNN  TO  THE  RESCUE. 

One  sultry  evening,  well  along  m  August,  the 
sun  was  setting  in  a  bank  of  clouds  behind  the 
Blue  Eidge  mountains,  when  two  horsemen  rode 
briskly  down  from  them.  One  was  a  colored 
"  boy,"  the  other  a  man  of  commanding  figure,  but 
wearing  a  plain  Union  soldier's  blouse.  Seeming 
to  ignore  danger,  they  pushed  straight  on  until 
they  reached  the  gate  of  Judge  Iii^^nggtone's  man- 
sion. The  stranger  dismounted  and  hurried  to  the 
front  door,  where  Isabel,  Avho,  from  the  west  win- 
dow of  the  drawing-room,  had  seen  and  heard 
their  rapid  descent,  and  had  thought  she  recog- 
nized the  strongly  marked  ebony  featui-es  of 
Caesar,  a  neighboring  colored  boy,  stjood  surprised 
and  timid.  He  lifted  his  slouch  hat,  drew  aside 
the  blouse,  showing  the  badge  of  a  United  States 
colonel,  and  clasped  her,  fainting,  in  his  arms. 
Joy  does  not  kill ;  apprehension  makes  the  nerves 
strong.  Old  Aunt  Chloe  was  promptly  on  hand, 
and  unceremoniously  dashing  cold  water  on  the 
pale  face  of  her  mistress,  hastened  the  return  ol 
consciousness,  while  old  Jep,  her  partner  in  the 
now  fully  revealed  conspiracy,  dodging  behind  the 
easement  of  the  adjoining  room,  tiestified  his  joy 
by  many  expressive  contortions  of  his  wrinkled 
features.  Isabel  gazed  upon  Colonel  Lynn  with  a 
look  of  mingled  love  and  terror. 

"I  fear  for  your  safety,  dear  AUan,"  she  mur- 
mured. 

"  I  have  won  rapid  promotion  for  love  of  you, 
Isabel,"  he  cried;  "shall  I  falter  in  your  deadly 
pern?  If  you  dare  the  trial,  mount  with  me. 
We  wUl  escape  them,   or  die  together ! " 

"Fear  not,  dear  AUan,"  she  replied,  "I  will 
die  with  you  rather  than  remain  in  this  dreadful 
place  and  hve. " 

The  old  people  had  everything  ready,  for  it 
was  they  who  had  dispatched  the  "boy"  on  foot 
over  the  mountains  to  find  Allan.  Isabel  was  a 
true  Southern  woman.  No  girl  in  the  naountain 
region  could  ride  faster  or  further.  Uncle  Jep 
quickly  had  two  of  Judge  Livingstone's  best 
chargers  saddled  and  at  the  door,  and  in  less 
time  than  it  takes  me  to  tell  it  the  lovers  were 
mounted  and  off  to  the  west,  where  the  fitful 
lightning  betokened  storm.  The  old  couple,  dread- 
ing the  return  of  their  master,  who  had  ridden 
out  to  in^  ite  his  cronies  to  the  nuptial  feast,  fol- 
lowed after  as  fast  as  possible,  hoping  to  rejoin 
their  beloved  mistress  in  the  land  of  the  free— to 
their  vivid  imagination  so  exceedingly  beautiful, 
"  T'ank  God,  massa ! "  said  Uncle  Jep  to  me, 
"  we'se  here  at  las' ;  but  me  an'  the  ole  ooman 
had  lots  mo'  trouble  befo'  dis  bressed  day,  and 
po'  missy  will  cry  heap  ob  tears  when  her  po' 
ole  people  fin'  her,  if  she  be  yet  ip  de  land  ob 
de  livin'.  Bress  Mars  Linkum's  sogers ;  we'uns 
is  free  (and  the  poor  old  man  looked  ruefully 
about  him  as  he  spoke).  For  sho'  hoecake  an' 
bakin  is  skace,  but  dat'll  be  all  right  when 
we'uns   fin's   po'   missy  an'    de   Cunnei. " 


A    FURIOUS    PURSUIT. 

In  the  mean  time  Wade  Barton  had  seen  the 
newcomers  soon  after  they  emerged  from  the- 
pass.  He  knew  the  "boy"  and  recognized  the 
stranger  as  Ids  possible  rival  of  months  before. 
Too  cowardly  to  risk  any  quarrel  single  handed,  he- 
dashed  off  to  the  little  tavern,  where  Otis  and 
Legare,  with  a  half-dozen  boon  companions,  were 
deep  in  a  carouse.  A  few  words  told  the  story,. 
and  the  whole  party,  with  fierce  oaths,  vaulted 
upon  their  horses  and  swept  madly  in  pursuit. 

Had  they  taken  the  short  cut,  instead  of  going 
around  by  the  mansion,  Allan  Lynn's  doom  hadi 
been  sealed,  and  the  maiden  for  whom  he  risked 
all,  and  who  ventured  ever.vthing  for  him,  would 
have  been  helpless  in  the  hands  of  these  enraged 
brutes.  But  Fate  had  arranged  it  otherwisei 
Having  now  reached  midway  of  the  ascent,  the 
hurrying  and  terrified  old  people  beheld  dimly 
in  the  thick  twUight  the  swift  approach  of  the 
pursuers,  and  heard  them  yelling  like  blood- 
hounds on  the  scent,  while  in  front  they  could 
still  see  the  dim  outline  of  the  fugitives.  Vainly 
hastening,  as  a  last  resort  they  stepped  into  the 
bushes,  with  the  hot  breath  of  the  blooded  steeds 
burning  their  cheeks,  and  muttered— half-uucon- 
sciousls^— a  prayer  for  the  safety  of  the  lovers> 
and,  no  doubt,  for  their  own. 

"Tell  yer  what,  honey,"  said  the  old  woman, 
"de  ole  man  an'  mo  tought  we  was  done  gone 
shuah.  Yer  could  a  heard  our  hearts  beat  like 
de  hammer  in  \1e  ole  forge  down  at  de  corners. 
We'uns  lay  jes'  as  still  as  possums  tel  de  soun' 
ob  de  hufs  way  off  was  small,  den  we  put  on 
jes'  as  hard  as  we'uns  could  go." 

Xear  this  point  the  road  divides,  one  fork  lead- 
ing to  the  left,  the  other  to  the  right  pass,  which 
are  about  a  mile  apart.  The  left  road  again 
branches,  but  reunites  at  the  pass.  These  three 
various  roads  necessitated  three  parties.  For  one 
moment  the  ferocious  pursuers  halted. 

"  Give  me  the  road  that  leads  to  the  rigiit 
pass!"  shouted  Legare.  "I  have  a  scent  like  a 
bloodhound.  I  know  which  way  the  sikulking 
Yankee  has  gone.  I'll  follow  the  d Abolition- 
ist to  h !  " 

"  I'll  take  the  left  branch !"  cried  young  Living- 
.stone;  "^^'ith  Joe  Hepson.  You,  Wade  Barton, 
with  the  rest,  follow  the  centre  road !  ■* 

Away  they  dashed  with  renewed  fury.  Legare's 
thoroughbred  was  reckoned  the  best  horse  in  Vir- 
ginia, and  he  fairly  flew  over  the  road,  lit  up  by 
the  terrible  lightning,  for  a  dark  tempest  wa« 
already  soughing  tlirough  the  mountain  pines, 
which  seemed  as  if  moaning  for  the  terrible  deeds 
so  near  at  hand.  Aunt  Chloe  and  her  husband 
plodded  along  as  fast  as  they  could  in  the  dark- 
ness, rendered  more  dismal  by  the  fitful  llashes. 
Suddenly,  just  as  they  came  to  the  forks  above  men- 
tioned, and  chose  the  road  to  the  left  pass,  their 
timid  ner\-es  were  startled  by  the  report  of  a  pistol 
at  some  distance  to  the  right,  followed  shortly  by 
another.     Then  all  was  stiU. 

"O,  Lawd!"  ejaculated  the  frightened  negroes^ 
clinging  to  each  other  as  tliey  pressed  forward. 
"  One  shot  kill  po'  missy,  an'  one  de  good  Cunnei. 
Now  where  will  we  'uns  go?" 

Soon  their  alarm  was  increased  by  a  loud  re- 


14 


LIBRAEY    OF    TRIBUNE    EXTRAS. 


port  as  of  a  g-un  some  distance  ahead  of  them. 
Bewildered  as  they  were,  they  kept  on,  and  after 
-some  time  reached  the  entrance  to  the  left  pass. 

A  TERRIBLE  TRAGEDY. 

Dim  and  unreal  in  the  darkness  of  the  forest 
they  found  the  sobered  pursuers  standing  dis- 
mounted around  the  ghastly  corpse  of  Otis  Liv- 
ingstone. He  had  reached  the  pass— his  compan- 
ion, Joe  Hepson,  close  behind— just  as  Wade 
Barton  with  Ms  followers  emerged  from  the 
other  road.  Mistaking  Lhem  for  Colonel  Lynn  and 
Isabel,  and  thinking  that  they  were  escaping. 
Barton  took  aim  with  his  carliine,  fired,  and  Otis 
fell.  Retribution  was  reaping  a  beautiful  har- 
vest. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  old  father  rode  up.  '  O, 
m.v  Isabel ! "  lie  moaned  ;  "  and  my  son !  I  have 
deserved  all  this  and  more."  Sinking  beside  the 
body,  all  his  pride  and"  passion  gone,  he  showed 
scarcely  more  of  life  than  his  slauglitered  son.  A 
terrible  storm  roared  through  the  mountains,  but 
-they  heeded  it  not  as  they  bore  homeward  the 
dead  and  the  dying.  The  oM  people,  with  slave-like 
devotion,  returned  to  nurse  tlie  old  man-  the  last 
of  his  name.  He  lived  but  a  few  weeks,  and 
when  the  Union  army  returned  they  started  North. 

"  But,  my  old  friends,"  I  said,  "  what  of  Legare 
tind  the  Colonel  and  Isaliel?" 

"Oh,  dat  bad  man  Legare!"'  cried  Aunt  Chloe 
with , uplifted  hands.  "Did  he  kill  my  dear  missy 
en'  her  lubber?  Hje  nebber  tell  till  de  angel 
<Jabriel  blow  de  las'  trumpet.  If  dey  dead,  some 
angel  ob  de  Lawd  must  hab  taken  dem  up  bodily 
like  de  prophet  Liger  in  de  chariots  ob  fire,  for 
nebber  on  erf  could  we'uns  fine  one  sign  ob  dem." 

THE    GULF    OF    DEATH. 

When  old  Chloe  and  her  man  had  dried  the 
honest  tears  drawn  fortih  by  these  bitter  memo- 
Ties,  they  told  me  of  Legare.  lie  did  not  return 
that  night  nor  the  next  morning.  So  in  t^e  after- 
noon a  party  of  the  soldiers  of  Ms  regiment  was 
sent  out  to  search.  For  some  lime  they  could 
find  notMng  of  Mm,  but  at  last  they  discovered 
the  tracks  of  Ms  horse  in  the  unfrequented  road 
leading  to  the  "  Gulf  of  Death."  "  You  know  dat 
place,  masea,"  said  Uncle  Jep,  "whar  we'uns  tell 
de  boyg  'bout  de  rattlers  so  plentiy."  I  knew  it 
better  than  Uncle  Jep  thought,  for  I  had  been 
there  and  gone  down  in  its  frightful  depthsi  with 
my  companions  on  a  foraging  excursion  during  our 
time  there  in  the  spring,  attracted  by  Uncle  Jep's 
highly  colored  description,  to  the  exploration.  The 
legend  ran  that  rattlesnakes  by  thousands  once 
swarmed  there  until  thinned  out  by  the  sfwine 
peculiar  to  that  region.  We  saw  no  rattlesnakes, 
but  the  hogs  were  there,  regular  Virginia  razor- 
backs.  But  the  "Gulf  of  Death!"  It  made  our 
blood  run  cold  to  look  upward  from  ite  bottom  to 
the  top  of  this  famous  precipice,  and  forced  ua  to 
think  what  a  horrid  death  to  fall  over  it !  But, 
looking  down  from  the  point  in  the  by-road  where 
the  tracks  ended,  those  Confederate  soldiers  saw 
something  awful.  A  hundred  feet  below,  crushed 
out  of  all  form,  human  or  equine,  lay  the  remains 
of  Legare  and  his  unfortunate  steed.  The  old 
folks  seemed  to  have,  small  love  for  Legare,  and 
spoke  as  little  as  possible  of  him,  seeming  to  think 


it  almost  a  profanation  of  the  ground  to  bury  his 
remaihs. 

But  old  Jep  remarked  :  "Dat  am  de  las'  we'uns 
eber,  eber  wants  ter  know  ob  him  an'  all  dat 
gang." 

"O,  honey!"  broke  in  the  old  woman,  witji  a 
pathetic  tremor  in  her  voice,  "lie'p  dese  po'  brack 
critters  to  fin'  Missy  Isiibel.  But  no'!  no!"  she 
wailed  shrilly  the  next  moment,  "her  an'  de  Cun- 
nel  bofe  dead  shuah.  Me  an'  de  ole  man  bofe  h'ar' 
de  shots  an'  whar  am  dey  ?" 

I  revived  their  courage  and  promised  to  help 
them,  and  did  so  with  such  good  wiU  that  I  soon 
located  Colonel  Lynn,  and  in  less  than  two  days 
my  hasty  note  brought  him  in  person  to  the  as- 
sistance of  Ms  faithful  old  friends.  Isabel,  he  told 
me,  was  safe  from  war's  alarms  i'n  a  Northern 
town,  wMch  he  named,  but  he  carried  his  left  arm 
in  a  sling.  It  was  one  of  the  most  affecting  scenes 
I  have  witne:?sed  when  the  old  colored  man  and 
hig  wife  saw  Colonel  Lynn. 

"  Halleloojah !  Halleloojah!"  they  slouted. 
"Lor'  bress  de  good  Cuunel!  Now  we'se  shuah 
to  fin'  dat  sweet  Missy ! " 

He  had  to  struggle  bravely  with  his  one  arm  to 
keep  from  being  overwhelmed,  but  when  he  as- 
sured them  that  Isabel  was  safe  and  well  they 
were  a  picture  of  ludicrous  happiness.  After 
they  were  quieted  down  Colonel  Lynn,  at  my  re- 
quest, briefly  filled  in  the  gap  unavoidably  left 
in  the  old  people's  story  of  the  pursuit. 

LEGARE'S    FATE. 

"  As  we  galloped  side  by  side  along  the  road 
leading  to  the  right  pass,  we  were  made  aware 
by  the  rapid  clatter  of  hoofs  that  a  single  horse- 
man was  overtaldng  us.  Isabel  said  it  must  be 
Legare.  No  other  horse  but  Ms  could  outdistance 
her  father's  war  steeds  in  that  way.  All  at  once 
the  sheeted  flame  revealed  us  to  him  not  more 
than  twenty  rods  in  advance. 

" '  Halt !  you  infernal  renegade,  or  I'll  take  your 
heart's  blood!'  he  yelled,  firing  his  revolvers. 

"  The  ball  struck  my  left  arm  between  the 
wrist  and  elbow.  I  tried  to  keep  it  up  so  as  not 
to  frighten  Isabel,  and  shouted  back  at  him  in 
scorn,  but  the  bone  was  shattered,  and  the  ann 
fell  helpless  to  my  side.  Isabel  noticed  it  and  I 
feared  she  would  faint,  but  she  only  bade  me  in 
a  low  tone  to  be  strong  for  her  sake.  That  was 
enough.  A  second  ball  went  close  to  my  head, 
but  Providence  was  kind.  Just  beyond  that  point 
a  narrow  road  to  the  left  leads  to  a  famous 
precipice  knov^Ti  among  the  superstitious 
country  people  as  the  'Gulf  of  Death.'  In  his 
blind  rage  Legare  took  this  way.  The  main  road 
winds  around  the  end  of  this  frightful  chasm. 
Just  as  we  were  passing  tMs  point  a  neigh  of 
terror  caused  us  to  look  over  our  left  shoulders 
across  to  the  other  bend  of  the  gulf.  There  the 
almost  incessant  flashes  of  the  lightning  showed: 
us  a  sight  never  to  be  forgotten.  Legaro's  horse 
reared  backward  with  instinctive  horror  of  the 
dread  abyss  below,  but  the  cruel  spurs  and  de- 
momac  oaths  drove  him  forward.  One  instant 
they  seemed  to  hang  poised,  as  if  in  midair, 
upon  the  brink.  Then  one  hoarse  shriek,  a  sick- 
ening crash}  and  all  was  still— such  an  oppresk 


TRUE    STOEIES    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    THE    UNION. 


15 


sive  stillne.'s— save  the  racket  of  our  horses'  feet 
as  we  galloped  thiougli  the  rock  pass  with 
blanched  cheeks. 

"My  wounded  limb  caused  me  great  pain;  bat 
what  was  that  when  Isaliel  rode  close  by  my  side, 
and  together  we  were  nearing  friends  and  free- 
dom ;  At  sunrise  we  were  within  the  Union  lines, 
and  a  right  royal  greeting  was  given  us  by  my 
regiment  soon  after.  Then  followed  a  serious 
time  under  the  doctor's  care ;  then  a  furlough 
North  with  my  gentle  nurse  as  escort,  where  she 
now  tarries,  and  in  good  hands,  I  assure  you, 
while  I  have  returned  to  share  with  the  boys  the 
anticipation  of  lively  times. " 

Colonel  Lynn  returned  to  his  command,  after 
making  arrangements  for  the  old  peoples  transpor- 
tation North.  Tlie  names,  as  well  as  the  facts, 
in  this  "o'er  true  tale"  are  real,  excepting  the 
three  Ls— Lj-nn,  Livingstone  and  Legare.  These 
have  been  chosen  at  random,  no  alliteration  being 
intended,  but  it  was  thought  best  to  withhold 
the  actual  names,  as  some  now  living  might 
consider  them  personal.  Tlie  next  day  I  met 
old  Uncle  Jep  and  his  wife  trudging  off  toward 
the  depot,  bent  nearly  double  by  the  weight  of 
their  domestic  impedimenta.  Their  ebony 
features  shone  blue  with  happiness.  They  wrung 
my  hand  heartily  at  parting,  and  Aunt  Chloe's 
last  words,  as  she  looked  back  at  me  gayly  and 
waved  her  great  red  bandana,  were :  "  Good- 
bye, honey;  we'uns  is  goin'  straight  to  Missy 
Isabel.  We'uns  reckoned  to  lay  our  po'  ole  bones 
in  sweet  Virgiuny ;  but  bress  yer,  honey,  we 
wants  dat  dear  gal,  an'  she  wants  we'uns."— James 

Harrolton,   2d  Lieut.  Co.  F,  110th  Penn.  Vols. 

< 

A  FAR  NOBLER  "  NINE  HUNDRED." 
Bangor,  Me.,  Jan.  20.— Lord  Tennyson,  the 
English  poet,  made  immortal  in  liis  poem  entitled 
"  Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade, "  the  noble  six  hun- 
dred at  Balaklava.  TMs  body  of  cavalry  charged 
the  Russian  earthwcrks  with  673  men.  Of  this 
number  1 95  answered  at  the  next  roll  call,  though 
including  those  taken  by  the  Russian,  230  escaped 
the  fearful  carnage.  There  were  lost  in  the  fight 
of  four  minutes,  443  men,  a  loss  of  65  per  cent. 
During  the  war  of  the  rebellion,  the  1st  Maine 
Heavy  ArtUlery,  June  18,  1864,  was  ordered  into 
a  valley  ot  death  before  Petersburg,  Va.  This 
regiment  advanced  alone  in  t)hree  lines  with  fixed 
bayonets  across  an  open  field  with  about  900  men 
toward  a  line  of  impregnable  earth  breastworks, 
called  the  Colquett  Angle  at  the  O'Hare  House. 
The  distance  between  the  lines  was  about  300 
yards.  The  Confederate  works  were  manned  by 
General  Lee's  old  veterans  and  supported  by  ar- 
tillery. The  works  were  never  taken,  but  were 
evacuatied  when  General  Lee  left  Richmond.  In 
the  brief  space  ot  between  four  and  six  minutes, 
this  regiment  lost  in  killed  and  wounded  632  men. 
Only  268  escaped.  No  prisoners  were  taken. 
Our  loss  was  70  per  cent.  In  both  cases  the 
order  to  charge  the  works  was  unmUitary.  It  was 
nothing  more  or  less  than  uncalled  for  slaughter 
•f  brave  men.  HENRY  E.   SELLERS, 

rirst  Lieutenant,  Company  D,   1st  Maine  Heavj"^ 
Artillery,  one  of  the  survivors. 


A    CHRISTMAS  IN   WAR   TIMES* 


HOW  A  SOUTHERN    MOTHER'S    BOYS    CAME 

HOME. 


AX     INCnjENT     OV     THE     CIVIL.     WAR     IN"     THE 
MOUNTAINS    OF   NORTH   CAROLIXA. 

"  Hello,  Johnnies '  What  are  you  penned  up 
for  ?    Are  you  deserters  ? "    asked  Captain  Haynes. 

"  I  reckon  you'uns  have  hj'^earn  tell  of  Wlieeler 
outlaws?  The  liuU  forty  of  we'uns  b'long  to 
'em,"  replied  a  fine-loblcing  large  man,  with  a 
sergeant's  chevrons  on  his  sleeves. 

"What!  iorty  of  you  in  this  little  pen?  Why 
that  was  just  the  number  ot  the  celebrated  Ali 
Biiba's  band.  I  suppose  you've  heard  tell  of 
them?" 

"  No,  I  reckon  not ;  so  far  as  any  of  we'uns  kin 
rec'lect.  Was  they'uns  a  reg'mental  band,  or 
jes'  banjo  pickers?" 

"  Neither ;  they  were  free  lances,  independent 
rangers  like  yourselves,  and  had  barrels  of 
money,  just  like  you  fellows  ought  to  have,  if  all 
the  stories  we've  heard  of  you  are  true." 

"  Bar'els  of  money, "  shouted  the  sergeant,  amid 
the  boisterous  laughter  of  his  companions;  "why 
our  money's  gettin'  so  wuthless  the  full  of  it 
wouldn't  ckal  the  vally  of  the  ba'el,  an'  it  would 
take  a  right  smart  pile  of  it  jes'  toe  pay  fo'  the 
bung  hole. '' 

The  Wlieeler  ■)utlaws  derived  their  name  from 
a  Conlederate  General  who  commanded  a  force 
of  irregular  cavalry,  which  stems  to  have  been 
greatly  lacking  in  discipline  and  was  permitted 
the  unbridled  Ucense  to  maltreat  and  murder 
citizens  suspected  of  entertaining  Union  sentiments: 
to  murder  runaway  slaves  and  even  Federal 
soldiers,  whom  they  sometimes  greatly  outnum- 
bered and  captured  on  foraging  expeditions. 
From  this  brutal  practice  it  was  only  a  step  for 
many  of  them  to  make  no  distinction  between 
friends  and  foes;  and  in  1864  and  I860  they  be- 
came such  a  scourge  that  they  were  declared  out- 
laws by  their  ^wa  government,  and  whenever 
and  wherever  caught  were  immediately  east  into 
prison. 

It  w.14,  a  queer  phase  in  prison  experience  to 
be  incarceratetl  in  a  sla^e  pen  with  Confederate 
desperado3S— and  yet  without  an  exception  all  of 
the  latter  manifebted  the  greatest  kindness.  They 
swept  a  space  of  the  floor  clean,  and  going  out 
under  guard  brought  in  cotton  and  piled  it  high 
so  that  the  newcomers  might  sleep  warm  and 
comfortably.  To  have  associated  with  men  so 
different  from  their  kind  seemed  to  have  a  re- 
straining effect  upon  their  coarseness,  for  they 
refrained  from  ribald  profane  talk  and  entertained 
the  Federals,  in  therr  homely  Southern  style,  with 
many  aneeJotos  of  their  adventures,  both  humorous 
and  pathetic.  The  first  evening,  as  they  sat 
around  the  fire,  one  of    the    outlaws    commenced 


*  This  sketch  Is  taken  from  aa  unflnished  story  ot  tha 
American  RebeUion,  including  the  adventures  of  a  little 
band  of  Federal  prisoners-of-war  who  made  their  escape, 
were  recaptured  and  cast  Into  a  slave-pen  with  forty 
of   the   famoub'   "Wheeler   outlaws." 


16 


LIBEAEY    OF    TEIBUXE    EXTILIS. 


picking  an  old  Banjo,  and  tiie  sergeant  sang  in  a 
pleasiog  barytone  a  love  ditty  with  a  most  beseech- 
ing chorus,  in  -nrhich  ail  hi;;  companions  joined. 

"  Sergeant,  that  was  a  very  pretty  song  and 
you  sing  well,"   said  one  of  the  Federal  prisoners. 

"Yes!"  added  Brower  in  his  thin  voice,  "we'd 
like  mighty  well  to  have  another  at  the  same 
price. " 

"That  song  has  a  tamel  sad,  excitin'  story  be- 
longin'  toe  it,  that  I  reckon  you'uns  mout  like  to 
hyea,**    replied  the  sergeant. 

"  Yes,  yes,  to  be  sure  we  would ! "  rejoined  the 
Federals  together. 

"  The  fus'  time  I  hyearn  that  song,"'  continued 
the  sergeant,  "  wus  this  way :  When  our  side 
wanted  mo'  soldiers  tha'  wus  some  places  whar 
we'uns  wus  'bleeged  toe  commence  conscriptiu' 
right  off,  way  back  in  '61.  Down  on  the  Yadkin, 
jes'  above  whar  it  makes  the  Pee-dee,  thar  lives 
a  lot  of  people  what  don't  keep  niggas,  an'  nat- 
u'ally  tliey  don't  take  pow'ful  much  stock  in  the 
wah.  They  'fused  toe  'list  pint  blank,  an'  sed  the 
Yankees  (you'uns)  wus  good  'nough  to?  stan'  up 
side  an'  side  an'  holp  wallup  the  British,  an'  by 
right  ought  toe  be  good  'nough  to  live  with  an' 
have  a  sha'  in  the  big  offices  onct  ia  a  while  cf 
you'uns  wanted  'em.  An'  'bout  the  long  an, 
sho't  of  it,  we'uns  wus  kickin'  up  a  muss  as  wu3 
gwine  to  make  we'uns  lose  all  our  land,  an'  git  a 
bad  lickin'   intoe  the  barg'in. 

"In  '61,  jes'  a  few  days  afo'  Christmas,  'bout 
twenty  of  the  lot  conscripted  from  do^\^l  thar 
skedaddled  bacl<^,  s^iyin'  they  wus  plenty  wU'  tur- 
key an'  possum  in  the  woods  down  toe  home,  an' 
nobody  wus  pow'ful  'nough  to  keep  they'uns  in 
camp  toe  eat  co'n  an'  side-meat  fo'  they'uns 
Christmas  dinner.  I  wus  sent  down  with  a  s^nad 
of  ten  men  to  'rest  all  the  layouts"  (deserters) 
"  I  could  sight  my  eyes  on.  It 
Avas  the  wust  place  fo'  that  kind 
of  work  toe  be  foun'  anywhar.  Little  mountains 
scattered  'bout  every  an'  tother  which  way.  an' 
woods  an'  woods  like's  if  thar  wus  no  end.  An' 
snakes!  Well,  you'uns  never  seed  the  like. 
They  wus  as  plenty  as  the  dead  limbs  offn  the 
trees;  rattlers,  racers,  moccasins,  whip-snakes, 
an'  pUota  a  squirmin',  rattlin'  an'  hissin'  till  they 
made  a  fellow's  hair  stan'  up  straight  an'  stiff  es 
broom  sedge.  Among  the  names  of  layouts  give 
to  we'uns  wus  three  brothers  of  a  family  named 
Nyby"  (Niobe).  "  So  we'uns  went  thar  fust,  an' 
in  co'se  they  wa'n't  thar,  but  a  hidin'  out'n  the 
woods.  But  it  wus  a  pooty  decent  plantation  with 
plenty  of  chickens,  an'  sheep,  an'  shotes,  an'  co'n,  so 
we'uns  'eluded  thar  wus  the  best  place  fo'  head- 
quatahs.  01'  mother  Nyby  wus  a  kind-h'a'ted  ol' 
lady,  an'  though  pow'fully  sca'd  'bout  her  boys, 
made   us  welcome. 

"  'Oh,  sir!'  said  she  when  we'uns  fust  arriv',  'I 
know  you'uns  be  come  arter  my  sons,  an'  ef  vo' 
hurt  one  of  'em  it  will  break  my  h'a'tl' 

"  'Don't  you  take  on  any  troubfe  'bout  that, 
mother  1'  says  I,  'fo'  we'uns  aint,  a^gw^ine  toe  harm 
a  har  in  they  heads.  We  simply  gwine  toe  take 
'em  back  t;oe  camp,  if  we  kin  ketch  'em.' 

"  'But  why  caint  you'uns  let  they  stay  at  home  ? 
They'uns  don't  want  toe  jine  in  the  wah.     Jimmy, 


my  oldes'  boy,  say  this  wah  is  a  down-right  sin^ 
an'  if  daddy  wus  a-livin'  he  wud  'plaud  him,  an' 
Henerj-  an'  Julius  fo'  staj'in'  outn  it.' 

"  'Yes,  but,  motjher,'  says  I,  'nobody  kin  srtay 
outn  the  wah,  unless  he  kin  git  away  from  the- 
country.  An'  if  yo'r  boys  run  off  an'  go  No'th  the- 
Yankees,  like  as  not,  would  conscript  'em  an' 
make  'em  fight  agin'  we'uns. ' 

"  'Oh^  that  would  be  too  monst'ous  toe  make 
'em  shoot  at  they'uns  own  peiTple!  I  tried  toe 
coax  'em  toe  buy  outn  it  hlce  ilister  BUI  Wines 
bought  outn  his  som  Harry;  but  Jimmy  say  it 
woul^  take  all  we'uns  land  is  wuth  to  pay  fo'  all 
three,  an'  wud  leave  me  an'  Bashee"  (Bathsheba> 
"  here  'tho,ut  anythin'  to  Live  on.  He  coaxed  Henery 
an'  Julius  to  stay  home,  by  seUin'  off  the  critters 
an'  some  other  fixin's.  Buti  they  say  no^  but 
Jimmy  must  stay,  an'  so  nuther  iwas  willin'  toe 
have  tuthers  go  an'  git  killed.' 

"  'I  reckon  you'uns  don't  'zactly  understan' 
'bout  buying  out  ?'  said  the  sergeant,  turning  to 
the  Federals. 

"  'Noj  we  don't !'  was  the  repl5^ 

"Well,  it's  the  conscriptin'  law  that  ev'ry  one 
'tween  seventeen  an'  fofty-five  he's  got  toe  go 
intK)e  the  wah  unless  he  is  able  toe  pay  outn  of 
it.  The  sum  at  fust  wus  three  hundred  dolla's. 
Tliem  as  couMn't  raise  the  money  had  toe  go  fo'' 
sho'.  So  you  see  this  is  why  we'uns  call  itj  a  rich 
man's  wah  an'  a  po'  man's  fight. 

"  Now,  ol'  Mother  Ky"by's  was  sich  a  oncommoit 
fine  place  toe  stay  at  that  we'uns  wa'n't  in  no 
great  hurry  toe  ketch  the  lay-outs,  an'  besides  i1» 
wus  so  close  ontoe  Christmas  that  we'uns  knowed 
ef  we  stayed  thar  we'uns  wus  bound  toe  have  a 
good  time. 

"  'iMistah  Sa'gent,'  says  ol'  Mother  Nyby  toe  me 
three  days  afo'  Christmas,  'I  feel  pow'ful  bad  this 
mo'nin',  an'  it's  jes'  this  way :  My  own  po'  boya 
haint  missed  bein'  home  on  T-hristmas  Day  since 
they  wus  bo'n,  an'  it;  grieA-es  me  toe  think  they 
dassent  come  home  this  one.' 

"  'Yes,  mother,'  says  T,  'it  is  a  downright  pity 
they'uns  can't  be  with  you,  fo'  me  aa'  my  men  is 
a-gwine  toe  cross  the  Pee-Dee,  an'  won't  get  back 
afo'  sundown  that  day,  an'  I  reckon  you  anT 
Bashee  will  liave  a  lonesome  kinder  time  unless 
you  'vite  in  some  fren'sl'  She  looked  at  me 
quick  like,  an'  seed  what  I  meatnti,  an'  got  smart 
an'  peart  agin  right  away. 

"We'uns  got  toe  Imow  a  heap  sight  of  people 
down  thar,  an'  all  'bout  thar  fambly  hist'ries— 
way  back  toe  the  ol'  Eev'lution  Wah.  An*  we 
find  the  Mister  Wines'es,  what  ol'  Mother  Nyby 
spoke  of,  'wus  the  riches'  man  tha'bouts,  an' 
p'raps  the  meanes'  one,  too :  a  takin'  ev'ry 
'vantage  of  hig  neighbors'  need'cessities,  an* 
makin'  piles  of  money  very  fas'— a  buyin'  up  stuff 
fo'  the  Govment— bein'  a  contractor.  His  neigh- 
bors said  as  how  his  grand'ther  wus  a  Tory,  an' 
fou't  with  the  British  agin  we'uns  in  the  ol'  wah. 
His  son  Harry  was  a  shinin'  up  toe  Bashee  Nyby, 
an'  as  you'uns  will  see  aiter  awhile  in  my  story, 
it  was  .'cause  he  an'  his  daddy  wanted  the  Nyby 
lan's  mo'  than  he  did  Bashee;  who  is  the  pooties', 
goodes',  sweetes'  an'  shyes'  gal  toe  be  foun' 
'roun'    'bout    anywhar! 


TEUE    STOEIES    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    JHE    UNION. 


17 


"  On    the    mornin',    two    days    ufo'    Christmas, 

ilister  Wines'es  dcgs  struck  a  deer  trail  on  the 

mountain  hack  o'  his  plantation,  an'  Harry  Wines. 

a  gittin'  down  his  refle,  'lowed  he'd  follow  them. 

He  kept  arter  the  chase  fo'  a  smart  bit,  p'r'haps  fo' 

eight  0'   ten  mileses,  an'  it  led  him  up  a  little 

creek  atween  two  mountains.     Stoppin'  by  a  big 

stone  he  sot  down  toe  rest  a  spell,  an'  toe  listen 

which  way  the  dogs  wns  a  makin'  fo'.     All  toe 

oncet   he    seed   a   smoke   an'    hyea'd    a   pa'cel    of 

men  a  talkin'  an'  a  laughin'  in  a  lau'el  thiclcet 

right  down  below  him.     Hasty  gettin'  down  an' 

creepin'   fo'ards  he  peered  undah   the  laii'els  an' 

thar  wus  live  o'  the  layouts  settin'  roun'  a  fiah 

an'  eatin'.     Three  of  'em  avus  tlie  Nyby  boys  an' 

the  tothers  wus  John  and   Joe  Paulson,   boys   of 

Widow    Paulson,    a    cluss    neighbor    of    Mother 

Nyby's.     Quick   crawlin'    back,    Harry  Wines   lit 

out  fas'  fo'  home,  an'  tol'  his  daddy.     They'uns 

got  a  pa'cel  of  frien's  with  ther  guns  an'  started 

arter  the  layouts,  instid  of  a  tellin'  we'uns. 

"  When  the  layouts  wus  a  done  eatin'  Jim  an' 
Henery  Nyby  an'  the  Paulson  boys  lay  down  on 
ther  bed  of  leaves  toe  sleep;  fo'  they'd  a  been 
trampin'  all  niglit  toe  a  frien'3  fo'  rations;  and 
Jule.  ther  younges'  Nyby,  'loud  he'd  go  up  the 
creek  a  ways  an'  ketch  some  fish  fo'  supper.  AH 
of  a  suddent,  while  he  was  nuietly  a  waitin'  an'  a 
watchin'^  fo'  a  bite,  he  hyearn  a  dry  stick  snap, 
an'  lookin'  up  he  seed  a  string  of  men  a  stealin' 
down  'round  the  tliicket.  Givin'  a  loud  shout  of 
warnin'  he  dashed  up  an'  back  in  the  woods, 
quick  as  a  buck,  with  a  couple  0'  bullets  a' 
whistlin'  past  liim.  The  tother  boys  run  outn 
the  thicket,  but  wus  too  late  as  they'uns  wus 
s'rounded  an'  had  toe  give  up.  Ol'  man  Wines 
an'  his  men  tuck  them  down  the  mountain,  toe 
a  old  mill  an'  penned  them  up  in  the  loft  till 
evenin'.  He  then  tol'  his  men  it  was  no  use 
an  need  fo'  all  of  they'uns  toe  go  back  ten 
mileses  to  whar  we'uns  wus,  as  by  a  tyin'  the 
boys'  ban's  an'  a  ropin'  them  together  he  could 
fotch  them  back  to  we'uns  easy. 

"The  nex'  mo'nin'  Harry  Wines  come  over,  an' 
'ealliii'  me  out,  n'l-ated  a  excitin'  storv  as 
how  his  da/ldy  was  a  bringin'  in  fo'  layouts 
when  they'uns  ma<le  a  turn  on  him,  an'  he  had 
to  kill  the  tarnal  las'  ome  of  '  m.  Several  of 
we'uns  tramped  up  thar  to  'vesti.gate.  an'  I  tell 
you'uns  it  was  a  pow'ful  bad  sight  we  seed.  Fo' 
of  as  likely-looldn'  fine  boys,  an'  the  oldes' 
one  not  twenty;  all  roped  together,  an'  the 
bloody  or  murderer  not  even  ontyin'  ther  ha,n's 
toe  make  his  lie  hoi'  out.  Jimmy  Nyby  wap 
shot,  and  tothers  had  ther  skulls  mashed  in. 
We'uns  was  sich  blasted  greenies  then  that  all 
we  done  wus  toe  repo't  the  ol'  villain,  an' 
nothin'  wus  evuh  do.i'e  toe  him,  es  they'uns 
wus  only  conscripts.  We'uns  know  so  much 
bettuh  now,  that  hed  it  happened  only  six  months 
ago  we'd  a  nevuh  said  one  word,  but  would  a 
jes'  quietly  took  ol'  Wines  in  sight  o'  them 
dead  boys  an'  a  hung  him  right  thar.  I  tell 
you'uns  that  outlaws  know  an'  do  a  heap  0' 
things  sometimes  down  hyar  that  is  a  sight 
bettah  fo'  the  people  than  anything  the  loud- 
braggin'    lawmakers    an'    law-talkers    do. 

"We'uns  didn't  say  a  wud  to  po'  ol'  Mother 


Nyby,   nor  Bashee,    'bout   the  killin,'  of  Jim  an' 
Henery,  fo'  it  was  too  blamed  ha'd  toe  tell,  an' 
that's  a  fac'.     That  night  was  Christmas  eve,  an' 
thar  wus  to  be  a  spang-up  pa'ty  down  at  Ajab's. 
A   couple  wus   toe   bte  spliced,    nex'    a   big  feas' 
toe  be  spread,  an'  arterwards  a  big  daince.    Me, 
Co'p'al   Boone  aju'   two  mo'    'low'd   we'd   go   an' 
take  ca'   of  Bashee   thar   an'   back,  ef  the   toth- 
ers   didn't    mind.     We    foun'    a    tremenjus    big 
crowd    thar,    an'    a    great    sight    mo'    gals    than 
boys,   on    'count   of   the   conscription;    an'   conse- 
kwently  we'uns  had  a  mazin'  good  time.     Harry 
Wines    was    there    a    tryin'    toe    make    up    toe 
Bashee,  an'  many  of  the   gals  wus  so  mad  over 
it  they  would  a  tol'  Bashee  'bout  her  brothers, 
but    didn't    have    the    courage,    an',    besides,    I 
shuck  my  head  no    to  them.     Arter  the  supper,  an' 
while  the  dancin'  was  a  goin'  on  mouty  lively,  an' 
Harry    Wines   was    a    talkin'    a*n'    laughin'    with 
Bashee,   an'    I   was  a  standin'    clus   by,    a  little 
youngster  comes  in  an'  puUs  Wines's  sleeve,  an' 
I  hyearn  him  say,  kinder  low : 

"  'Mistuh  Boten's  out  thar,  an'  wants  toe  see 
yo',  quick !  Says  he  knows  whar  Jules  Nyby  is,  an' 
it's  ther  bes'  chance  yo'  an'  yo'r  daddy'll  have  in 
yo'r  lives.' 

"  As  young  Wines  hurried  out  I  followed  arter, 
and  'bout  twenty  steps  from  the  do'  I  seed  a  young 
fellow  not  mo'  than  half  Wines's  size,  with  a 
white  face,  and  fierce,  starin'  eyes,  a  comin'  to- 
wards Wines,  an'  he  beginnin'  toe  step  back'ards 
to'ard  the  do'  agin.  Suddenly  the  white-face  one 
sprung  fo'ard  an'  landed  with  his  arm  'round 
Wines's  neck,  an'  they  went  down  together.  The 
white-face  one  quick  'rose  up  toe  his  feet  agin, 
an'  his  right  ban'  an'  a  knife  in  it,  I  seed,  was 
red  with  blood ;  an'  the  tother  one  lay  quite  still 
on  the  groun'. 

"  The  crowd  rushed  out  from  the  dance,  an'  the 
gals  all  screamin',  with  Bashee  in  the  mids'  of 
them  :    'It  is  Julius  Nyby !      Run  !  Jule,  run  !' 

"  IN0,  I  won't  run  !'  replied  Jule,  a  standin'  up 
straight  over  Harry  Wines.  'You'uns  all  know, 
but  po'  Bashee  don't  know,  why  I've  gone  an'  done 
this!  or  Wines  an'  this  son  of  hisn  plotted  toe 
git  our  home  by  this  scoundrel  a  marryin'  yo'  an' 
by  a  gettin'  yo'r  brother  outer  ther  way.     They 

murdered  him  and  Hen  last  night,  an' ' 

"  Hyar  he  was  intrupted  by  Bashee,  who  give 
a  wil'  shriek,  dashed  fo'a'ds  with  glowin'  eyes  an' 
tightly  pressed  lips,  an'  I  cotch  her  jes'  as  shd 
was  agoino  toe  stamp  with  her  little  heels  on  the 
dead  man's  face. 

"  'Hyer,  sargeant !'  said  Jule,  'I  s'render  myself  1' 

"'No,  no!     Not  toe  me,'  said  I.     'Fo'  Bashee's 

sake!     Fo'  yo'  ol'  mother's  sake!     Run  I     Run!' 

shouted  I ;  an'  all  the  res'  agin  tuck  up  the  cry : 

'Run!   Jule,  run!'" 

"'I  reckon  yo'r  too  late  now  fo'  that,  Jule!  I 
'rest  yo'  fo'  murdah !  An'  I  want  the  sojers  hyar 
to  understan'  I'm  a  constable,  an'  a  civil  oflfisah 
of  ther  law !  An'  if  they'uns  intoefere,  it  will  be 
at  they  own  pu'ell'  exclaimed  a  tall,  long-leg'd, 
law-boned  mountaineer.  He  then  led  Jule  away,  an' 
we'uns  sta'ted  back  fo'  homo  jes'  as  the  sun  was  a 
risin'  on  Christmas  mo'nin',  with  po'  Bashee.  and 
she  a  moanin'  all  the  way.  Well  now  you'uns 
kin  b'le've  it  was  a  awful  sight  when  Bashee  toP 


18 


LIBEAEY    OF    TEIBUNE    EXTRAS. 


'•  Mj-  h'a't  is  brealdn'  fo'  yo,  dea' !    ol'  Cupid's  wa'in* 

mo'nin'  clos' ; 
All'  ef  I  die  yo'll  be  toe  blame !     Then,  oh,  take  pity 

on  my  woes  I 
I  cannot  eat,  no'  can  I  sleep— -WiP  thou'ts  keep  whirl- 
in'   through   my  brain- 
Then  liyea'  me  now— es  sho's  yo'r  bo'n.  I  won't  come 
back  to  yo'  again  ! 

Chorus- 
So  come  along !     Oh,  won't  you  come  ? 
Please  come  along,  sweet  Liza  Jane! 

"  Ef  yo'll  come,   oh,   Liza  Jane  1    my  cup.  of  joy  will 

o'run  the  brim ; 
But  ef  yo'  don't,  I'll  go  an'  jump  in  deepen'  hole  whar 

red-hoss  ■  swim  1 
In  Pee-Dee's  mud  an'  golden  sands  tha'  I  will  en'  my 

moan   an'   pain- 
Then  hyea'  me  now— es  she's  yo'r  bo'n,  I  won't  come 

back  to  yo'  again  ! 

Chorus- 
So  come  along!      Oh,  won't  you  come? 
Please  come  along,  sweet  Liza  Jane  I" 

"That  niglit  arter  the  people  wus  asleep,"  re- 
sumed the  sergeant,   "  we'uns  cha'ged   intoe  the 


Jier  ol'  mother;  fo'  jes'  as  she  clone  quit  tellin' 

some  men  toted  in  the  dead  boys— an'  then  Bashee 

and   her  mother  sunk  right  down  on  the  flo'  in 

each  otha's  arms.     It  was  so  pow'ful  bad  toe  see, 

an'  it  hu't  me  an'  roused  my  feelin's  so  mighty, 

that  I  jes'  reacht  down  an'  raised  the  po'  ol'  white 

•ha'i'd  woman,  an'  puttin'  her  on  a  chai',  I  kissed 

her  on  the  cheek,  an'  said :   'Don't  give  way  so, 

mother!    God  a  l^eiu'  willin',  yo'  shall  have  Jule 

eafe  back  agin,  er  111  die  a  tryin' !'     Tlien  every 

one  of  my  squad  Avent  up  an'  kissed  her  an'  made 

the   same   promise.        We'uns   done   the  quickes' 

rollin'  up  of  blankets,  fillin'  of  haversacks,  an' 
strappin'  on  of  ca'tridge  boxes,  as  ever  you'uns 
seed.  An'  jes'  as  we  went  out,  an'  fo'med  ranks 
toe  ma'ch  away,  Basliee  come  a  runnin'  out,  with 
the  tears  a  streamin'  down  her  cheeks,  an' 
throwed  her  arms  around  our  necks,  a  kissin'  all 

■on  us,  an'  a  blessin'  us  jes'  like  a  lovin'  sistah. 

"We'uns  marched  straight  fo'  the  co't-house 
town;  but  arter  goin'  a  little  bit,  we  stopped  toe 
think  'bout  the  bes'  plan,  and  all  on  us  'greed  if  town,  a-whoopin'  an'  a-yelJin'  an'  a-firin'  otfn  our 
we  kept  lud  an'  wailed  till  dark,  an'  then  stormed  guns  like  a  pa'cel  of  wil'  Injuns.  We  made  a 
the  jail— by  shootin'  an'  makin'  'nough  noise—  straight  bee-line  fo'  the  jail,  an',  takin'  a  long 
the  people  v.'ould  think  we'uns  were  a  strong  log,  nigh  mos'  es  much  es  we'uns  conTd  tote,  we 
party,  an'  mebbe  we  could  git  Jule  free  'thout  rammed  it  agin  the  ol'  do'— a-bustin'  it  in  at  the 
sheddin'  any  one's  blood.  Wliile  we'uns  was  a  fus'  lick.  We  got  Jule  outn  thar  mighty  quick, 
eittin'  by  the  roadside,  a  goin'  over  our  plans  a^'  ^he  sher'flE  an'  people  lay  low,  a-thinkin' 
ca'fully,  so  as  toe  liave  no  mistakes,  we  hj'earn  we'uns  wuz  a  lynclun'  gang'.  Little  Bashee 
the  music  of  a  banjo  way  down  the  road,  clar  has  gin  her  prondse  toe  wait  fo'  me,  down  in 
outer  sight.  Hid  in'  oursel's  'mong  the  bushes  we  the  Pee  Dee,  til]  the  wah  is  done  font  an' 
waited  toe  see  what  was  comin'  an'  to  keep  from  peace  comes.  An'  I  wish  toe  heaven  the  wah  was 
bein'  seed,  accordin'  toe  the  plan'  'greed  on.  I'm  clone  squelched  now ! "  concluded  the  Sergeant 
Willi i'   you'uns  may  shoot    me,  ef    thar    wasn't     -with  a  sigh. 

that  same,  tall,  long-leg'd,  raw-boned  mountaineer  «  Well,  but,  what  has  become  of  Jule— Bashee's 
constable,  v/ith  a  rifle  over  his  right  shoulder  an'     i^j-other  ?"   inquired  Nick. 

a  rope  tied  roun'  his  left  arm,  an'  at  t'other  end,  «-^jjy^   ^^,^   ^^j-  ^n'    put   him   in   a  butternut 

twenty  feet  away,  with  a  loop  of  it  roun'  his  uniform,  blackened  his  eyebrows  an'  ha'r  witjh  In- 
ceck,  an'  a  wil"  turkey  feather  in  his  liat,  wus  j^^  j^^j-^  Then  we  marched  straight  back,  an'  po' 
Jule  Nyby,  a  playin'  on  a  banjo,  an'  a  singin'  ^y  Mother  Nyby  had  all  her  boys  toe  home  afo"* 
that  song."  Christmas  Day  wus  over— one  livin'  an'  two  dead. 

"Sing  it  again,  sergeant,"  urged  the  Federals,  j^i^'g  been  witjh  we'uns  ever  since,  an'  is  that 
A  slightly  ijuilt  outlaw,  sitting  by  the  side  of  ^^^|g  ^^gg  alongside  o'  you  with  the  banjo," 
Nick,  with  a  dreamy,  melancholy  face,  be-  There  was  a  suspicious  moisture  in  the  eyes  of 
gan  picking  an  accompaniment  on  his  ^j^^  Federals  when  the  sergeant  ended  his  story, 
banjo;  and  the  sergeant  sang  the  song  again,  his  j^j^j.  turned  to  the  little  outlaw  and  said:  "For 
companions,  witli  Brower  to  help,  joininsr  in  the     ^-^  sake  of  your  sister  Bashee's  happiness  you  did 


chorus. 


GOME  ALONG,   LIZA  JAXE. 


*'  Yo'  know  I've  co'ted  yo',  dea'  Liza  .Jane,  since  ea'ly 
in   the   spring; 

When  only  buas  Avuh  on  the  bria'  an'  bush,  an'  blue- 
birds on  the  wing. 

Th'  cotton  now  is  whlt'nin'  on  th'  hill;  the  co'n  Is 
yaUow'n  on  the  plain- 


right  in  killin'  that  cold-blooded  scoundrel  I  But 
I  would  leave  the  old  man  to  be  punished  as  the 
Lord  wills." 

"  I  reckon  you'uns  have  much  toe  larn  yet  'bout 
we'uns.  Wlien  oncet  blood  is  spilt  atween  two 
famblys,  thar  feud  lies  got  toe  be  foutn  out,  es 
long  es   thar   be  any  lef    on   top   o'   the  green 


Then  hyea'  me  now-^es  she's  yo'r  bo'n  I  won't  come  xj    ^       ^  ^^  ^^ch  other,"   answered  the  little 

back  to  yo'  agam !  •>  ^'^';  , 

outlaw  earnestly. 


CI  orus— 

So  come  along  1     Oh,  won't  you  comet 
Please  come  along,  sweet  Liza  Jane  I 

«Otha'  ones  may  yo'   speak  so  fai',  an'   praise  yo'r 

eyes  of  pretty   brown ; 
But  he  who  says  the  hun'yes'  word,  kin  alius  make 

the  blgges'  frown  1 
Ef  yo'll  coTie  an'  grace  my  home,  tha'  yo',  my  own 


"An'  I  reckon,  since  I'm  gwine  toe  marry 
Bashee,  that  I'll  have  a  hand  in  the  racket  1" 
exclaimed  the  sergeant  with  an  enthusiastic  look. 

"Yes,  an'  it's  we'uns  duty  toe  stan'  by  our 
comrnandah  I "  chimed  in  all  of  the  outlaws. 

"  Hurrah !     Hurrah  1     Here's  a  motto  for  you  : 

-^    .    „    ^     v,-.,wM,r„  Wlieeler-men     shoulder     to     shoulder  1"     shouted 

dea'  queen,  shall  reign-  ...       ,  .  .  ,0     rn     at  «1t^      ^^-i^- 

Then  hyea'  me  now— es  she's  yo'r  bo'n,  1  won't  come     Brower   in   his    tlun    voice.— (o.    I .    iVLumy,    AUjii. 

back  tv>  yp'  again!  184th  Penn.  Inf.,  Meratock,  N.  C. 


Chorus— 


So  come  along  1     Oh,  won't  you  comet 
Please  come  along,  sweet  Liza  Jane  1 


*  "Red-horse,"  a  species  of  fish  foxuid  in  headwaters  ot 
the  Great  Pee-Dee  River. 


TRUE  STOEIES  OF  THE  WAE  FOR  THE  UNION. 


19 


THE  WRECK  AND  IHE  RESCUE. 


AN  EXPERIENCE  OFF  HATTERAS. 


THE     STORY     OF     AN     OLD     RIVER     STEAMBOAT, 

WHICH   SHOULD  NEVER  HAVE   PUT   OUT 

UPOSr    THE    DEEP     SEA. 

Toward  the  last  of  October,  1861,  accompanied 
bj'  martial  music,  a  battalion  of  United  States 
Marines,  under  the  command  of  Major  Reynolds, 
left  the  Marine  BarraclfS  at  Washington.  After 
marcliing  through  some  of  the  streets  of  that 
city  they  took  passage  on  the  TJrut^d  States 
steamer  Pawnee.  Toward  evening  the  vessel  left 
her  wharf,  and,  moving  slowly  down  the  river, 
dropped  her  anchor.  Under  cover  of  darkness  her 
living  freight  was  transferred  to  an  old  produce 
steamer,  which  made  her  regular  trips  upon  the 
Potomac.  The  policy  of  this  movement  was  not 
apparent  until  early  the  next  morning,  when  she 
passed  a  battery  planted  on  the  river's  bank,  with 
the  Pawnee  two  or  three  miles  in  her  wake.  The 
eyes  of  the  enemy  were  evidently  fixed  upon  the 
Pawnee ;  and  the  ruse  which  had  been  resorted 
to  to  get  the  400  marines  safely  past  the  battery 
was  not  discovered  until  it  was  too  late.  The 
old  produce  carrier  had  steamed  leisurely  past  the 
battery  unmolested,  but  as  soon  as  the  Pawnee 
came  within  range  "  bang ! "  "  bang  I  "  "  bang ! "  Went 
the  guns  from  the  fort.  In  full  view  of  the  rebel 
battery,  but  out  of  range,  the  four  companies  of 
marines  were  again  placed  on  the  Pawnee,  after 
which  the  steamer  proceeded  to  Hampton  Roads 
to  join  the  fleet  then  fitting  oul.  for  the  Port  Royal 
expedition. 

The  vessel  designated  to  convey  the  battalion 
of  marines  to  its  destination  was  an  old  side-wheel, 
walking-beam,  river  steamboat,  bearing  the  assur- 
ing title  of  United  States  steamship  Governor. 
This  vessel,  on  November  1,  1861,  with  the  rest 
of  the  expedition,  put  out  to  sea.  Some  of  the 
boys  being  quite  weU  supplied  with  money,  card 
playing  was  the  order  of  the  day.  On  the  second 
or  third  morning  out  many  sets  of  players  could 
be  seen  scattered  about  the  deck,  engaged  in  their 
favorite  amusement.  About  9  a.  m.  the  weather 
became  thick  and  heavy,  the  vessel  began  to 
pitch  and  plunge,  and  one  party  of  players  after 
another  went  below  deck.  By  noon  there  was  not 
a  single  game  in  progress.  The  first  intimation 
any  one  had  that  things  were  becoming  serious 
was  given  by  the  crash  of  the  falling  smokestack 
and  its  disappearance  over  the  side  of  the  vessel 
into  the  sea.  Some  time  after  that  incident  oc- 
curred a  portion  of  one  of  the  masts  was  carried 
away.  As  the  time  wore  on  something  became 
disarranged  in  connection  with  one  of  the  steam- 
pipes,  and  finally  the  rudder  failed  to  lo  its  duty. 
The  vessel,  wallowing  in  the  trough  of  the  sea. 
was  then  wholly  at  the  mercy  of  the  waves. 

After  bein^r  subjected  to  the  terrible  strain  of 
tumbling  about  on  the  waves  for  a  number  of 
hours  the  beams  of  the  vessel  began  to  jerk  back 
and  forth  with  the  motion  of  the  vessel,  produc- 
ing ominous  creaking  souuds,  as  though  there 
were  not  a  timber  in  the  whole  ship  which 
was     not     being     twisted     all     into        splinters. 


The  feelings  of  those  400  men  in  that  rickety, 
creaking  vessel  can  be  imagined.  If,  after  pass- 
ing through  such  an  ordeal,  their  hair  had  turned 
white,  no  one  would  have  been  surprised.  It  is 
said  that  the  soldiers  of  the  war  die  very  young. 
With  the  experience  which  many  of  them  had,  la 
it  any  wonder  ?  The  motion  of  the  beams  opened 
large  seams  between  the  planking,  and  permitted 
the  water  to  pour  into  tlie  vessel.  Those  who 
have  never  been  in  such  a  situation  have  only  a 
faint  conception  of  the  feelings  which  such  sur- 
roundings produce.  To  prevent  immediate  disaster. 
large  ropes  were  fastened  to  the  walking-beams 
and  then  secured  to  some  substantial  support. 
This  kept  them  stead.y  and.  to  some  extent,  stuppcj 
the  water  from  coming  in. 

At  daylight  the  next  morning,  after  a  night  of 
terrible  suspense,  we  could  not  discover  a  vessel 
of  the  entire  expedition.  The  men  determined, 
liowever,  not  to  go  down  witho.ut  making  many 
heroic  efforts  for  life.  Large  bailing  parties  were 
formed,  leading  from  the  deck  down  each  gang 
way  to  the  water  below.  As  one  set  of  men  be- 
came exhausted,  it  was  relie%"ed  by  another.  With 
an  ordinary  crew  the  vessel  could  not  have 
been  kept  afloat  for  twenty-four  hours,  but  with 
100  athletic  young  men  in  the  prime  of  life,  con- 
scious that  their  safety  depended  on  their  o,wn 
exertions,  the  prospect  for  life  was  a  little  more 
promising. 

Tlio  elements,  however,  had  no  respect  fot 
strength  or  numbers.  Sea  after  sea  broke  over 
the  disabled  vessel  during  the  many  weary  hours 
of  daylight  and  darkness  which  followed.  The 
boat  trembled  and  reeled  in  her  struggles.  The 
deeper  she  plunged  and  the  higher  she  was  tossed 
the  wider  became  the  opening  seams  and  the  more 
the  water  rushed  in,  rendering  increased  exertion 
necessary  to  keep  it  from  rising  above  the  point 
of  danger.  That  there  must  have  been  great  pri- 
ration  is  evident  from  the  fact  that  the  danger 
admitted  of  no"  opportunity  to  prepare  anything 
to  eat,  or  to  partake  of  it  if  it  had  been  prepared. 
The  strain  then  began  to  tell  on  those  who  were 
engaged  in  the  struggle  for  life.  One  man  did  so 
far  lose  his  balance  as  to  determine  to  put  an 
end  to  the  suspense ;  he  plunged  headlong  into 
the  sea,  where  any  attempt  to  rescue  him  was 
utterly  impossible. 

At  this  critical  point,  the  anxiety  of  the  en- 
dangered men  was  in  a  measure  relieved  by  the 
appearance  of  the  small  gun-boat  Isaac  Smith, 
which,  after  much  difficulty,  succeeded  in  passing 
a  hue  to  the  disabled  vessel.  The  hopes  excited 
by  her  efforts  to  render  assistance  were  destined 
to  be  of  short  duration.  Owing  to  the  greater 
weight  of  the  disabled  vessel,  there  was  danger 
of  her  pulling  the  gun-boat  under  the  water  and 
her  destruction.  To  prevent  this,  the  hawser 
with  which  she  had  taken  the  Governor  in  tow 
was  severed,  and  she  steamed  away  out  of  sight, 
leaving  those  in  the  disabled  vessel  more  hopeless 
than  before. 

After  a  few  hours  another  sail  appeared  in 
sight.  This  proved  to  be  the  sloop  of  war  Young 
Rover.  A  small  sailing  vessel,  amid  the  tre- 
mendous sea  that  was  then  running,  would  not 


20 


LIBRAEY    OF    TEIBUXE    EXTRAS. 


be  expected  to  render  any  assistance.  Eealizing 
her  inabilit.v  to  afford  the  much-needed  help,  slie 
turned  and  gradually  drew  away.  She  was 
watclied  until  she  became  a  mere  speck  :  and  when 
that  speck  disappeared  beneath  the  horizon,  more 
than  one  pent-up  sob  became  audible  among  the 
men. 

Cruising  off  Cape  Hatt«ras  at  that  time  was 
the  United  States  frigate  Sabine.  All  at  once,  the 
shrill  whistle  of  the  boatswain  was  heard  upon 
her  gun  deck ;  and  a  minute  later  voices  resounded 
fore  and  aft :  "  AH  hands  make  sail. "  In  an 
instant  every  man  sprang  to  his  duty.  All  was 
excitement,  turmoil  and  confusion.  Sail  after 
sail  was  flung  out  to  the  breeze,  rope  after  rope  was 
hauled  taut,  and  studding-sail  after  studding-sail 
was  added  to  the  already  excessive  and  dangerous 
amount  of  canvas  wliich  was  sweeping  the  vessel 
onward  over  the  mighty  deep.  Captain  Eingold 
was  well  nigh  omnipresent  in  every  part  of  the 
ship,  liis  presence  animating  the  men  to  do  their 
duty.  Tlie  object  of  this  bustle,  though  to  them 
still  unknown,  was  something  of  great  importance. 
Ihey  were  pui-suing  a  vessel,  which  carried  at 
first  the  French  flag:  then,  becoming  more 
audacious,  the  English  flag ;  finally  the  Rebel  flag 
was  seen  waving  from  her  mast.  All  these  manoeu- 
vres tended  to  increase  the  speed  of  her  pursuer. 
As  hour  after  hour  passed  away,  the  race  between 
the  two  vessels  was  almost  evenly  divided  J  each, 
with  great  tenacity,  holding  her  own.  Presently, 
resounding  from  the  cross-trees  of  the  Sabine,  came 
the  cry,  "  Sail  ho.''  From  the  officer  on  deck 
went  back  the  inquiry,  "  Where  away  ?"  The 
answer  was  returned  "  Right  ahead,  sir.''  "  Can 
you  make  her  out  ?"  "  Steamer,  sir.  Dis- 
mantled, SU-.  In  distress,  sir."  While  this 
discovery  was  being  made  the  vessel  which 
was  being  pursued  had  shortened  sail,  hove  to 
and  run  up  the  Stars  and  Stripes.  It  was  the 
United  States  sloop  of  war  Young  Rover,  which  by 
her  skilful  tactics  had  been  successful  in  leading 
the  Sabine  onward  to  the  rescue.  By  her  disap- 
pearance in  the  morning  she  had  left  400  men 
in  the  agonies  of  despair,  Vut  before  the  day  was 
brought  to  a  close  she  had  again  inspired  them 
with  hope.  She  had  accomplished  a  good  day's 
work  and  was  deserving  of  all  the  thanks  she  re- 
ceived. 

The  disabled  and  much  distressed  steamship 
Governor  was  now  in  plain  sight  from  the  decks 
of  the  Sabine,  and  that  noble  vessel  sped  on  to 
the  rescue  with  every  throbbing  heart  in  her  gal- 
lant crew  determined  to  do  its  best  and  lend 
willing  aid. 

To  say  that  the  hopes  of  the  exhausted  men  on 
the  disabled  vessel  were  renewed  feebly  expresses 
what  the.y  felt.  The  first  utterance  which  reached 
their  listening  ears  through  Captain  Ringold's 
speaking  trumpet  as  the  Sabine  was  sweeping 
past  within  hailing  distance,  under  full  sail,  was 
the  command,  "  Drop  your  anchor."  The  effect 
produced  upon  the  men  to  whom  these  words  were 
addressed  was  akin  to  that  which  must  have  been 
realized  by  the  man  to  whom  a  still  greater  Cap- 
tain gave  the  command  to  "  come  forth, "  more 
than  1,800  years  before.  No  sooner  was  the  com- 
mand given  than  it  was  obeyed.     After  shortening 


sail  and  tacking,  the  Sabine  drew  up  and 
anchored  as  close  ahead  of  the  disabled 
vessel  as  the  circumstances  would  permit.  By  the 
time  darkness  liad  set  in  a  Jacob's  ladder  had, 
with  much  difficulty,  been  constructed  between 
the  two  vessels  and  the  sick  taken  to  a  place  of 
safetJ^  It  was  the  intentian  to  continue  the 
work  of  rescue  as  rapid] j*  as  possible  during  the 
night  until  -ill  had  been  saved,  but  the  elements, 
as  if  determined  not  to  be  cheated  out  of  their 
victims,  interposed  and  cut  the  work  of  rescue 
short.  By  a  combination  of  events  which  seemed 
to  have  been  purposely  arranged,  the  full  weight 
of  both  the  vessels  was  brought  to  bear  on  the 
hawsers  which  constituted  the  Jacob's  ladder 
and  snapped  them  asunder  as  though  they  had 
been  pieces  of  twine.  Nothing  now  remained  ex- 
cept to  endure  another  long  night  of  dread  and 
suffering,  during  which  the  struggle  for  life  had 
to   be   renewed   with   redoubled   energy. 

One  incident  which  proved  fatal  to  some  and 
came  very  near  lieing  equally  destructive  to  all 
occurred  about  midnight.  Some  one,  without  any 
authority,  shouted  to  the  Sabine  that  the  Gov- 
ernor was  sinking.  Supposing  it  to  be  true,  the 
captain  of  that  vessel  gave  the  order  to  pay  out 
her  cable  and  drop  down  by  the  side  of  the 
Governor,  so  as  to  give  what  chance  he  could  for 
those  on  board  of  her  to  be  saved.  Here  again 
the  fury  of  the  elements  was  felt,  and  the  ves- 
sels dashed  together  with  such  force  as  to  make 
it  apparent  that  a  few  repetitious  of  that  con- 
tact would  bring  swift  and  certain  destruction 
on  the  Governor.  The  capstan  on  the  Sabine  was 
therefore  hastily  manned  and  she  was  di-awn  back 
to  her   original  position. 

Wliile  the  vessels  were  in  contact  a  number 
of  the  men  on  the  bows  of  the  Governor  made  a 
leap  for  life.  Some  of  them  landed  on  the  deck 
of  the  Sabine  and  some  in  the  rigging,  and  others 
fell  iu  the  water  between  the  two  ships.  In  an 
instant  all  kinds  of  JTghts,  red,  blue,  green  and 
white,  were  shedding  theu-  rays  upon  t!ie  surface 
of  the  sea.  If  to  the  sights  and  sounds  of  the 
night  there  could  have  been  added  rolling  clouds 
of  smoke,  one  could  easily  have  imagined  t}mt  he 
was  standing  upon  the  verge  of  hades  and  gazing 
down  upon  the  shrieking  and  writMng  agony 
below:  Those  who  beheld  the  scene  there  pre- 
sented witnessed  something  they  will  never  for- 
get. Many  of  the  men  in  the  water  were  saved, 
but  a  few  were  lost. 

Early  the  next  morning  the  work  of  rescue  was 
resumed.  A  boat  v/ith  its  crew  was  successfully 
lowered  from  the  Sabine,  and  by  means  of  a  rope 
it  was  drifted  down  to  within  twenty  or  thirty 
feet  from  the  Governor.  Had  the  boat,  by  any 
mishap,  been  permitted  to  strike  against  the  Gov- 
ernor, she  would  have  been  smashed  into  splinters 
and  her  crew  inevitably  lost.  A  line  was  thro^vn 
to  the  boat,  and  one  man  at  a  time^  sliding  down 
into  the  water,  worked  himself  along  as  best  he 
could  to  the  boat,  into  which  he  was  lifted  by  the 
crew.  When  the  boat  wa"s  full  it  was  pulled  by 
the  sailors  on  the  Sabine  to  the  stern  of  that 
ship.  Slipnooses  were  then  placed  around  the 
men  and  they  were  hoisted  to  the  bulwarks.     Na 


TRUE    STORIES    OF    THE    WAR     FOR    THE     UNION. 


21 


!ang-uage  can  portray  the  feeliugs  whicli  this  end- 
den  transition  from  imminent  clanger  to  a  place  of 
safety'  produced  in  their  minds.  During  the  en- 
tire day  until  about  4  or  5  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon  was  the  process  of  rescue  continued, 
when  the  last  man  loft  the  poor  old  sinking  ship. 
Before  darkness  had  again  set  in  all  tliat  \vas 
left  of  the  steamship  Governor  had  gone  down 
amid  the  surging  billows  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea. 
With  many  thanlcs  to  the  little  gunboat  Isaac 
Smith  for  her  good  intentions;  with  admiration 
for  the  sloop  of  war  Young  Rover,  on  account  of 
the  strategic  movements;  and  with  hearts  over- 
flowing with  gratitude  toward  Captain  Ringold 
and  his  noble  crew,  for  saving  them  from  a  watery 
grave,  all  except  six  of  that  exhausted  and  un- 
fortunate company  were  safely  resting  on  the 
decks  of  the  Sabine.— (George  Pritchett. 


TOLD    AT     THE    SUGAR     CAMP. 


THE  GENERAL'S  RAILROAD  TRAIN. 


SHERMAN  KNEW,  AFTER  ALL. 

Beloit,  Kan.,  Dec.  23.— While  our  syuad  of 
captives  were  "raiding"  through  North  'Carolina 
and  Virginia,  we  fell  in  company  with  an  old 
Virginian,  who  said  he  was  furloughed  from 
Hood's  arnij-  in  Atlanta,  and  was  goiug  horn 3 
to  visit  his  family.  We  talked  of  many  things, 
but  his  greatest  concern  was  about  the  duration 
unci  result  of  the  Avar.  He  expressed  doubts  of 
Southern  succe!>s,  and  seemed  to  wish  for  peace, 
no  matter  which  way  it  sliould  turn.  In  order 
to  draw  him  out  I  talked  encouragingly. 

"  Ah ! "  said  he,  "  I  know  it's  no  use  to  struggle, 
for  it's  all  retreat,  and  we  are  about  giving  up 
Atlanta. " 

I  feigned  surprise,  and  declared  it  impossible: 
lor  if  so,  •'  Good-by,  Confederacy  :  " 

Said  he :  "  I  know  it's  to  be  evacuated ;  for 
I've  seen  the  big  guns  and  ammunition  gouig 
away  on  the  raUroad,  while  logs  are  being  put  on 
the  breastworks  and  forts." 

H-e  again  sighed  and  said  he  was  discouraged, 
and  then  added:  "The  war  has  lasted  90  long 
that  it  has  discouraged  everj-bodj-. " 

Before  evening  one  of  our  scjuad  made  a  remark 
wMch  excited  his  suspicion,  and  caused  him  to 
rask  if  I  was  not  a  Confederate ;  "  for, "  said  he,  "  I 
supposed  from  the  uniform  that  you  were  a  Vir- 
ginia oflicer  in  the  old  style  regimentals .' "  'Sly 
■clothing  had  not  been  confiscated  when  taken. 

My  reflection  and  concla&ion  was  that  if  he 
had  known  me  as  a  Federal  he  would  not  have 
been  so  communicative. 

Some  ten  days  or  two  weeks  after,  at  Fortress 
Monroe,  we  heard  the  glorious  news  of  the  evacua- 
tion of  Atlanta,  and  we  then  concluded  that  the 
Virginian   had  been  very  obserAant. 

Sequel:  In  187  7  Hamilton.  Illinois,  made  a 
Fourth  of  July  celebration,  wlach  was  graced  by 
the  presence  of  General  Sherman  and  two  of  liis 
staff.  General  R.  F.  Smith  acted  as  muster  of 
ceremonies,  and  when  my  turn  came  in  introduc- 
tion I  said:  "General,  I  prececfed  you  through 
North  Caroliiia,  and  perhaps  knew  of  the  evacua- 
tion before  you." 

After  the  ceremonies  he  asked  how  my  opera- 
tions in  his  advance  had  l>eau  conducted,  and  I 
briefly  narrated  the  story. 

'•  Well, "  said  he,  "  that  is  good  ;  but  I  did  know 
aU  about  it  from  many  deserters  and  contrabands, 
and  was  not  surjmsed  when  it  happened.*'— (R.  P. 
Kendall. 


A    RIDE    WHICH    IS    XOT    A.S    FAMOUS    AS    SHERt- 

DAVS.    1;LT   was   quite  AS   EXCITING 

IX     -MAXV    REJECTS. 

Back  Bay  P.  O.,  Boston,  Dec.  20.— Tliey  were 
seated  around  a  glowing  campfire,  and  it  was 
Uncle  Ralph's  turn  to  relate  a  story  or  an  ad- 
A'^enture. 

Outside  the  camp  the  night  was  still  and 
cold,  and  the  bright,  clear  moonlight  revealed  the 
dark  figures  hoA-ering  around  the  sagai  maples. 
Inside  all  was  light  and  warmth  and  comfort, 
and  the  ruddy  blaze  brought  out,  in  vivid  con- 
trast with  the  roughly  built  camp,  the  strange 
and  picturesciue  costumes  in  which  the  boys  had 
arrayed  themseh'es  for  their  Aveek  in  a  sugar 
forest.  They  were  seated  now,  pans  of  sugar  in 
the  hands  of  oacii,  on  opposite  sides  of  the  huge, 
roaring  fire;  and  the  eyes  of  +he  eight  rested 
upon  the  face  of  Jack  Bundi 's  Uncle  Ralph. 

"My  turn,"  said  Uncle  Ralph,  'rnd  my  stories 
all  told!" 

"Tell  about  that  ride,"  prompted  Jaclc.  "Not 
Sheridan's,  but  your"s. " 

"We'd  like  that  OA-ery  night!"  said  Ihe  others. 

Uncle  Ralph,  in  whose  closet  hung  a  captain's 
uniform,  was  a  hero  in  the  boys'  ejes  He  had 
serA-ed  during  the  entire  war,  l\ad  languished  in 
Libby  Prison,  had  l>een  thrici-  -.vounded,  and  yet 
neA-er  spoke  of  any  ef  his  gr.nd  exploits,  unless, 
as  now,  he  yielded  to  their  demands  and  related 
to  them  some  adA-enture  of  the  war.  Uncle  Ralph 
then  told   his  story. 

Well,  boj-s,  at  the  time  of  the  battle,  Avhich 
was  fought  at  B.,  and  with  the  details  of  which 
you  are  all  familiar,  I  was  on  the  staff  of  General 
Y.,  who  was  then  in  command  of  our  Third  Bri- 
gade. He  was  a  man  of  brilliant  and  intrepid 
courage,  and  also  upon,  fortunately,  rare  oc- 
casions, a  man  of  the  most  reckless  determination. 
We  had  marched  for  two  days.  Following  the 
line  of  the  K.  and  D.  Railroad,  we  had  as  we 
proceeded  destroyed  it.  At  nightfall  of  the 
second  day  our  men,  haA-ing  tramped  thirty  miles 
through  rain  and  excessiA'e  heat,  were  greatly 
exhausted.  PereeiA-ing  this.  General  Y.  ordered 
a  halt  and  a  distribution  of  rations.  On  the 
night  preceding  our  march  he  had  receiA^ed  this 
dispatch:  "  iNtarcIi  the  2^th  oA-er  the  K.  and  D. 
Railroad  to  P.,  destroying  road.  At  Q.  Junction 
leaAe  railroad  and  strike  across  countrA'  to  P.. 
saA-ing  men  a  march  of  twenty  miles.  Reach  P. 
by  daybreak  of  26th.  Hold  command  in  readi- 
ness for  attack,  but  aAvait  orders  to  attack." 

At  nightfall  of  the  2.5th,  then,  'we  were  fortj* 
miles  from  P.  if  we  folloAA-ed  the  railroad  ;  tAventy 
miles  if  Ave  proceeded  as  instructeH.  The  dark- 
ness anr"  the  heat  were  intense,  and  the  night 
set  in  Avith  heaA-y  rain  and  mist.  In  addition  to 
these  disadA-antages  the  air  was  charged  with 
smoke  from  distant,  burning  Avoods.  Under  these 
circumstances  our  march  was  necessarily  sIoav. 
At  the  end  of  an  hour  Ave  entered  a  Avood  which 


22 


LIBEAEY    OF    TEIBLTSTE    EXTEAS 


was  but  a  thick  tangle  of  low,  scrubby  cedar 
trees,  whose  sharp-pointed,  interlacing  boughs 
caused  many  a  loud  exclamation  and  many  a 
stumble.  About  9  o'clock  General  Y.  ordered  a 
halt.  Upon  hearing  it  the  men  cheered  feebly, 
and  then,  exliausted,  flung  tJiemselves  upon  the 
swampy  ground  to  snatch  vvhat  little  rest 
they  could. 

Calling  lus  staff  about  him  the  General  said  : 
"  We  are  making  slow  progress,  and  by  daybrealr. 
even  should  we  succeed  in  reaching  P.,  the  men 
wiU  be  in  no  condition  for  battle.  We  will 
therefore  retrace  our  steps  and  go  on  to  P.  by 
raill" 

At  this  decision,  so  directly  in  defiance  of  orders, 
yet  given  in  a  calm,  matter-of-fact  voice,  we  were 
startled.  After  a  brief  silence  Colonel  B.  said  : 
"But,  General,  are  you  not  assuming  a  great  risk 
in  acting  against  orders  ? " 

"  The  risk  is  mine, "  said  the  General.  "  I  have 
decided.  I  will  bear  the  responsibility  and  the 
consequences. " 

"I  think  you  are  right,"  I  said;  "we  are  in  an 
unknown  country,  and  we  may  flounder  round  and 
round  in  this  black  wood   till    daybreak.     I  ap- 
prove your    decision,   but.    General,    I   have    one 
question  to  ask." 
"And  that  is.?" 
"  Who  will  run  the  engine  ?  " 
"I  will!" 

A  resounding  laugh  echoed  through  that,  fog- 
enwrapped  wood  at  this— a  laugh  in  which  pres- 
ently the  General  himself  joined.  The  staff  made 
no  attempt  to  dissuade  him  from  what  to  most 
seemed  a  mad  project ;  and  in  weary  silence  we 
retraced  our  way  to  Q.  Junction.  The  troops 
were  so  tired  with  beating  about  in  that  well- 
nigh  impassable  wood  that  the  Greneral  ordered 
rations  and  absolute  rest  until  4  o'clock. 

"General,"  I  said,  venturing  to  remonstrate, 
"  shall  we  reach  P.  at  daybreak  if  we  halt  so 
long?" 

"We  must  make  the  run  in  half  an  hour,"  the 
General  answered. 

"  Over  an  utterly  unkno-\\Ti  road  in  this  fog, 
—this  pitchy  darkness  ?  " 

"  It  will  then  be  nearing  daybreak. " 
"But— forty   miles  over  a  road   that  may  not 
be  in  good  repair ! " 

"  War  has  its  risks, "  replied  the  General.  Then 
putting  his  hand  upon  my  shoulder,  he  added, 
"  Go,  now,  my  friend,  and  rest,  and  later  you 
may  bring  a  clear  brain  t.o  the  management  of 
yonder  engine." 

"What!"  I  stammered,  "I  assist  you!       Why, 
General,  I  know  absolutely  nothing  about  it." 
"Nor  I,"  calmly. 

"  Yet  you  mean  to  talce  us  over  the  road  to  P.  ?" 
"I  mean  to  take  you  over  the  road  to  P." 
"  It  is  certain  de-ith !  " 
"  Oh,  no !  " 

He  then  repeated  Ms  advice  that  I  should  seek 
rest  and  sleep,  and,  sad  at  heart  and  discouraged, 
I  turned  away.  Meeting  Colonel  B.,  I  e^  pressed 
my  conviction  that  we  should  meet  death,  not  iu 
battle,  but  on  the  rail. 

"Cheer  up,  my    boy!"    was    his    unexpectedly 


hearty  answer.     "  When  the  General  pitches  into" 
a  thing    he's  apt  to  p-it  her  through!" 

Fortunately  for  the  General's  suddenly  con- 
ceived determination,  a  madeniJ  train  stood  upoa 
the  track— pa-- senger.  baggage,  freight  cara^ 
coupled,  abandoned,  empty.  Irto  one  of  these  I 
made  my  way.  My  brother  officers  were  scat- 
tered, some  smoking  and  pacing  the  narrow  plat- 
form, some  lying  upon  the  hard  benches  in  the 
desolate  waiting-ruom,  while  others  had  followed 
the  course  pursued  by  the  men  and  had  flung 
themselves  upon  the  grjund. 

Alone  I  abandoned  myself  to  the  thoughts  I 
would  not— could  not— utter.  When  we  reported  at 
headquarters  would  the  offence  of  our  beloved 
General  be  overlooked,  or  Avould  he,  disgraced, 
be  dismissed  the  service?  This  was  the  ques- 
tion that  repeated  itself  over  and  over,  and  kept 
me  wide,  wide  awake.  For  disobedience  is  a 
grave  offence,  mj^  boys.  Presently  I  sjirang 
from  my  seat,  and  at  the  risk  of  giving  offence  I 
determined  to  seek  the  Geneial  and  implore  him 
to  listen  to  the  thought  which  had  just  pre- 
sented itself.  Here,  there,  ever.\"where,  I  looked 
for  him.  At  last  I  found  him-wheie? 
In  the  engine  cab ! 

With  head  bared,  coat  thrown  off,  sleeves 
rolled  up.  he  stood  by  the  side  of  Jim,  his  colored 
servant,  holding  a  candle,  by  whose  feeble  light 
Jim  seemed  to  be  examining  the  boiler.  I 
sprang  up  the  steps  and  entered  the  cab. 

"General,"  I  said,  in  a  low  voice,  "it  has  just 
now  occurred  to  me  that,  among  all  our  men- 
men  of  all  trades,  as  they  are— there  must  be  one 
who  could  underetand  this  engine.  Find  that 
one,  I  implore  you  !  " 

"  Would  you  have  me  rob  all  my  men  of  the- 
sleep  they  so  sorely  need  that  I  may  find  one  to 
do  this  thing?" 

I  accepted  the  rebuke  in  silence. 
"But,"   continued    the   General,    "I  think   you 
may   dismiss   your  fears.     Jim   tells   me   thfit   he 
understands  this  monster,  which  shall  soon  throb 
with  motion." 

"Yes,  massa.  Sure  'nouf,  mas=a,"  said  Jim,. 
rolling  his  e3"e8  as  if  to  confirm  his  extraordinary 
statement.     "Yes,   massa,   I   knows." 

"How  is  that?"  I  asked.  "I  thought  that 
all  your  life  you  had  been  upon  a  plantation  ?" 
"Y'es,  massa.  But  'twas  this  way,  massa. 
You  see,  ole  massa,  he  own  big  part  ob  de  rail- 
road what  run  troo  our  town,  an'  lie  own  big 
part  ob  de  town,  I  specs.  An'  ole  ma^^sa  he  lub 
ter  ride  in  de  cyara  berry  freciuentious.  An' 
Pompey  he  run  de  injine— sure  'nouf!  An'  he 
show  dis  chile.  'Mebbe  you  an'  me'll  dribe  her 
ober  de  road  ter  freedom,'  say  Pompey.  Sure 
'nouf,  massa!  So  he  tell  me  how  to  pull  out 
dis  an'  shut  up  dat  an'  fire  up  dar,  fin'  oh,, 
eberyting!  Sure  'nouf!  Fur  Pompey  he  less  de 
mos'  superest  nig  dat  eber  war  horned  inter  dig 
worl'  ob  sorrer  an'  lamentatin.  Sure  'nouf, 
massa ! " 

"So,"  said  the  General,  cheerily,  "you  see  that 
one  difficulty  has  vanished. " 

"Well,  if  Jim  understands,  I  am  very  elad." 
"  Sure  'nouf,  massa.     'Taint  no  grate  shucks  ob 


TEUE    STORIES    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    THE    UNION. 


23 


work.     Blow  her  up,  easy  as  wink,  ef  I  don'  do 
jes  what  Pomp  say." 

It  was  not  an  iaepiriting  suggestion,  and,  but 
lialf  relieved  of  the  burden  which  oopressed 
me,  I  said  in  a  low  aside :  "  General,  this  road 
may  be  torn  up  ahead." 

"It  aiay.  It  is  one  of  the  risks  I  consilered. 
War  has  its  perils,  I  repeat." 

At  4  o'clock  the  men  were  aroused,  served  with 
hot  coffw  and  ordered  on  board  tlie  abandoned 
train.  By  the  General's  request  I  took  my  plao3 
In  the  cab.  Jim,  complacent,  buoyantly  hope- 
ful, stood  with  one  ha.nd  upon  the  lever,  the 
General  on  the  footplate,  peering  out  into  the 
thick,  misty  darlvness.  At  4 :30  Jim  annoujjojd 
that  all  was  in  i-eaciiness. 

"Are  all  the  men  on  board?"  asked  the  Oen- 
eral.  ' 

"  Every  man, "  I  replied. 

"  Have  all  had  their  rations  ?" 

"  Every    man. " 

"  Start  her  up,  Jim ! "  the  General  commanded. 
"  Pile  on  the  steam  1 "  Wit,h  a  long-drawn,  wail- 
ing shriek,  with  puffs,  with  snorts,  the  engine 
started.  For  about  ten  mitiutes  we  ran  along  so 
smoothly  that  my  misgivings  as  to  Jim's  capacity 
vanished  And  then!  And  then  the  General, 
wateh  in  hand,  shouted :  "  More  steam,  Jim ! 
Faster,  Jim,  faster!  We  must  put  her  through." 
Jim,  gri"nning  with  satisfaction,  pulled  out  "  dis"' 
and  "dat."  On  we  rattted,  on  we  jerked,  on  we 
pounded,  on  we  flew!  Over  that  abandoned, 
desolate  road  at  frightful  speed!  On,  on,  on, 
through  the  gray,  enwrapping  mist!  On  with 
a  bumping  of  buffers,  a  rattling  and  a  clanging 
of  coupling-chains,  that,  in  the  weird  silence, 
echoed  and  re-echoed  1 

"  Faster,  faster  yet,  my  lad  !"  roared  the  General 
through   and   above   the    dih.     "  Faster,    faster !" 

Oi)ening,  shutting,  geisticulating,  chattering, 
Jim  obeyed,  and  at  a  still  gieater  speed  we 
dashed  on.  On,  on,  on !  Swaying  from  side  to 
side,  thundering  through  the  black  night!  On, 
over  narrow,  sloping  embankments,  on  over  rotten, 
tottering  bridges,  on  over  deep,  rock-lined  ravines 
—on,  on,  as  every  man  on  board  tliat  leaping,  fly- 
ing train  believed,  on  to  certain  death !  Thunder- 
ing, plunging,  bounding,  s\vaying,  on  we  flew ; 
And  still  the  General  shouted  :  •'  Faster !  faster ! 
Crowd  on  the  steam!    Put  her  througli,  my  lad!" 

Helpless,  hopeless  and  terrilied  were  the  mem- 
bers of  that  valiant  brigade.  In  their  hearts 
they  believed  the  General  suddenly  to  have  be- 
come a  madman.  Yet  with  grim,  unflinching 
courage  they  bore  the  terrible  strain  on  nerves 
and  body.  Well,  my  boys,  at  last  it  ended,  that 
wild,  that  terrible  ride.  Strange,  improbable, 
impossible  as  it  may  seem,  we  entered  the  outr 
skirts  of  P.  as  tht  rising  sun  threw  long,  oblique 
lines  of  golden  lightj  into  the  slowly  lifting 
mist.  Daybreak:  At  P.!  And— alive!  Hooked 
at  Jim,  as  he  sliut  off  the  steam  and  sprang  to  the 
brakes,  and   then  at  the  General. 

"Well,  Jim,"  he  said,  " jou  deserve  promotion. 
Had  you  burst  a  hundi-ed  boilers,  you'd  have 
brought  us  through ! " 

"Sure  'nouf,  massa!"  said  Jim,  doubling  him- 


self    up     with     sudden,     complacent,     chuckling 
laughter.     "  Sure  Inouf  I     Specs  I  should,  massa !  " 

Uncle  Ralph  leaned  back  in  his  roughly  con- 
structed log-chair  with  a  sigh,  and  awaited  the 
questions  he  had  learned  to  expect.  They  were 
not  long  in  coming. 

"  Was  there  a  battle  ?''  asked  George,  with 
an  interest  as  vivid  as  if  he  had  never  before 
heard  any  incident  of  the  war.  "Was  it  a 
victory  for  our  side?" 

"  There  was  a  hard-fought  battle,  a  hard-won 
victory  for  our  boys  in  blue." 

"  Was  General  Y.  court-martialled  ?  Was  he 
dismissed   the   service?"   questioned  Frederic. 

"  He   was    not    dismissed,"    said    Uncle    Ralph. 
sadly.     "Yet     that    clay     he    left    the    service. 
That  day,  dear  boys,  he  gave  up  his  life  for  his. 
country." 

A  moment's  pause,  and  then: 

"What  became  of  Jim?"  asked   George. 

"  Oh,"  cried  Jack,  "  I  was  just  goinsr  to  ask 
Uncle  that  very  same  question!" 

'•  Jim  ?"  said  Mr.  Ralph  Buttress.  "  You  see: 
Jim  every  day.'' 

There  was  a  second's  silence.     Then: 

"  What  I  Big  Jim,  who  has  the  fruit-store^ 
under  your  office?" 

"The    same.        Though,"    with    an    almost   in- 
voluntary smile,   "his  ideas  of  rapid  locomotion 
are     somewhat    changed     now.      But    Jim      the 
fruiterer     is   Jim     the   engineer,    though    now    a 
snail's  pace  suits  better  his  weight  of  flesh." 

"  He's  made  lots  of  money,"  said  Frederic, 
reflectively.  "  He  said  so  himself  1  He  says^ 
you  gave  him  the  monej'  to  begin." 

"WeU,  he's  free!"  exclaimed  George.  "The- 
Geueral  made  him  free.  Didn't  he,  now.  Uncle 
Ralph  ?'' 

"The  General,  and  hundreds  and  thousands  of 
our  country's  brave  sons,"  said  Uncle  Ralph, 
tenderly  and  reverently.  "They  died  to  set  him 
free!''— iMary  A.  Sawyer. 


HE   GOT  THE  IMULE. 

When  Richmond  surrendered  it  was  found  that 
many  of  the  citizens  were  without  food,  and 
others  were  in  a  positively  starvuig  condition. 

All  the  agencies  at  hand  were  set  to  work  at 
once  to  furnish  food  to  people  in  need  of  it.  The 
Government  issued  rations  as  soon  as  possible,  and 
in  the  mean  time  the  Sanitary  and  Christian  com- 
missions(  furnished  what  they  could.  Among 
tliose  who  assisted  in  issuing  the  supplies  of  the 
Christian  Commission  was  the  Rev.  John  O.  Fos- 
ter, of  Chicago. 

Each  day  supplies  would  be  issued  according  to 
the  amount  on  liand  and  the  number  who  crowded 
into  line  to  receive  the  rations.  Blaclc  and  wliite, 
rich  and  poor,  old  and  young,  msrched  slowly  up 
to  the  table  wliere  the  generous  Foster  listened 
to  their  wants  and  directed  iiis  assistants  in  fur- 
nishing the  necessary  supplies.  All  shared  alike 
the  bounty  of  the  Christian  Commission. 

One  evening  after  the  last  basket  had  been 
filled  and  the  last  applicant  had  left  the  room-  a 
colored  man  wlio  had  been  sitting  back  in  a  corner 


LIBSAEY    OF    llJLBUyE    EXTKAS. 


ea  a  box  came  forward  with  Ms  old  torn  hat  in 
kis  hand,  bowing  in  a  most  obsequious  way. 

~  Why  did  you  not  come  when  the  others  did  ?  " 
questioned    Foster. 

"  Eaze  I  didn  t  want  no  rashuns.     Ben.  he  done 
got  'em  and  gone  long  ago.     I  cams  on  business." 
"Well,  what  can  I  do  for  you?" 
**  Tze  "moi'  "shamed  ter  tell  you,  Capt'm.''  and  he 
put  Im  old  hat  up  to  his  face  and  chuckled  for  a 
moment.     Then  he  went  on ; 

Tou  see,  Capfin,  dey  is  sellin'  lots  of  Gov"- 
ment  mules.  De  wah  is  ovaa  an'  dey  got  no  usd 
for  gov'ment  mules  no  mo".  An'  dey  er  gwyne 
ehea'T— 'mos'  cheap  as  dirt.  I  can  buy  a  b'utiful 
GoT'ment  mule  fur  twenty  dollars."  Tlieu  there 
was  an  awkward  silence. 
"WeU?" 

"  I  tho't  maybe  you'd  len'  me  t\venty  dollars 
to   buy   one." 

Foster  laughed  and  the  colored  man  shudied  his 
feet  and  looked  at  the  floor. 

"  How  could  you  ever  pay  the  money  back  ?" 
"Easy   'nuf,    massa— by   hauling   at   de    w'a'f. 
Sometimes  a  dollar  a  load.     Big  speculation  ia  it, 
aure." 

"But  you  have  no  wagon." 

~  Oh,  I'ze  got  good  'null  wagon— one  ole  massa 
throde  away.  I'ze  fixed  it  up  'mos'  good's 
new,  an'  I've  picked  up  plenty  rope.  I'ze  got 
eberyding  but  de  mule.'' 

"Well,  I  think  you  ought  to  have  the 
mule  now,"  was  Foster's  generous  reply ;  "  and 
here  ia  twenty  dollars  to  buy  one,  but  you 
must  pay  it  back,''  and  he  handed  him  a  SlO 
and    two   §5    bUls. 

"  My  Lor,  massa  I  Xeber  had  so  much  money 
fore  in  all  my  life.  If  I  don  fail  to  pay  it 
back,    de  mule's  youm,    sure." 

"Now,  don't  allow  yourself  to  be  robbed  or 
cheated    out    of    it." 

"No.  massa,  I  hain't  goin'  to  let  nobody  know 
Pze  got  nuthin'  till  I  git  hole  on  de  mule." 

Two  days  pa-ssed  and  he  saw  nothing  of  the 
colored  man.  On  the  evening  of  the  third  day 
the  colored  man  came  in  late,  and  took  a 
seat  in  the  correr  on  a  box.  But  after  all  had 
left  the  room  he  came  close  up  to  Foster  \vith 
his  hand  on  his  pocket. 

"Well,  did  you  get  the  mule?" 
"Yes,  massa,  I  got  de  most  beautifullest  mule 
dat  you  ever  seed — de  bes'  kind  uv  Government 
mule.''  Then  he  took  from  his  pocket  two 
clean,  crisp  §5  bLQs  and  handed  them  to  ilr. 
Foster.  "  ~  Tor  sat'day  night  I  gwine  to  pay 
all,  I  'spects :  I'ze  doin'  a  busten  bus'ness." 

The  next  Saturday  evening  the  colored  man 
was  there,  ^id  as  soon  as  the  room  was  cleared 
he  came  forward,  and.  making  sure  that  no  one 
else  would  see,  he  took  out  quite  a  roll  of 
bills  and  from  them  selected  a  clean,  crisp  $10 
biU  and  handed  it  to  Mr.  Foster. 

"  How  in  the  world  did  you  make  so  much 
money  ?'' 

"  I  tole  you,  massa,  der  war  a  speculashun  in  it, 
an  der  war.  Me  and  de  mule  and  Ben  amed 
evry  doUah.  He's  the  beautifullest  mule  you  ever 
seed.     Beu  brung  him  round  so  as  you  could  see 


Mr.  Foster  went  to  the  door ;  there,  sure  enough, 
srtood  a  good,  strong  mui?,  as  docile,  as  quiet  and 
sedate  as  though  he  had  not  hauled  the  artillery 
into  the  fight  and  stood  near  the  big  guns  amid 
the  thunders  of  battle;  for  Ben  said,  with  great 
pride : 

"  Dis  mule  is  one  uv  dem  best  mulers  that  pulled 
de  big  guns  ober  de  hills.  Oh,  he's  an  awful 
strong  hos."' 

Little  Ben  sat  on  a  board  placed  as  a  seat  at 
the  front  of  the  wagon,  his  white,  even  teetjh  show- 
ing from  ear  to  ear,  and  his  eyes  sparkling  with 
gladness.  Ben  managed  to  buy  a  lot  on  a  back 
aUey  and  build  himself  a  shanty  and  a  iittle  stable 
for  the  Government  mule. 

Judging  from  his  thrift,  he  is,  no  doubt,  if  ahve, 
one  of  the  wealthy  colored  men  of  Richmond  now. 


^em." 


NTOT  TlilE  TO  SEND  FOE  THE  COLOXEIx 
Clinton  B.  Fisk  was  chocsen  Colonel  of  a 
regiment  made  up  largely  of  ministers  and  re- 
ligious men.  The  morality  of  the  regiment  was 
a  matter  of  favorable  comment,  not  only  in  the 
camp  where  they  were  drilled  before  leaving  the 
State,  but  also  as  they  advanced  down  the  ilis- 
sissippi  Eiver.  Some  one  suggested  that  Colonel 
FLsk  should  do  the  swearing  of  the  regiment,  as 
he  was  "  as  religious  as  a  preacher. " 

The  Colonel,  who  was  not  to  be  nonplusjsed 
by  such  a  proposition,  readilj-  accepted  the  duty, 
the  men  all  assenting. 

"  Soldiers,"  he  said,  with  great  gravity,  "  if 
there  is  any  necessary  swearing  to  be  done  in 
this  regiment,  call  on  your  Colonel." 

Weeks  passed,  during  which  not  an  oath  was 
heard  in  camp.  The  first  hird  camping  place 
was  at  Helena,  Aik.  The  regiment  pitchetl  their 
tents  on  the  bluff  tack  of  the  town,  on  yellow 
clay,  wldch  after  a  rain  wcame  like  putty.  It 
was  more  than  a  mile  to  the  steamboat  landing, 
and  all  the  supplies  had  to  be  hauled  through 
the  miry  streets  of  tlie  town  and  over  the  cordu- 
roy road,  a  road  made  of  logs  firmly  fastened  to- 
gether, and  then  up  a  long,  steep  hill,  where 
the  mud-like  yellow  putty  gathered  upon  the 
wheels  and  upon  the  feet  of  men  and  beasts. 

Colonel  Fisk  sat  in  his  tent  one  day  attending 
to  official  business,  when  he  heard  one  of  hia 
men,  a  teamster,  swearing  like  a  Hessian.  He 
recognized  his  voice,  and  determined  to  reprove 
the  man  at  the  first  opportunity.  lie  had  not 
long  to  wait.  ■"  John, "  lie  eilled,  "  come  here. " 
John  responded  with  a  military  salute  and  stood 
'.before   his   Colonel   unflinchingly. 

"  John,  did  I  not  hear  some  one  swearing  dread- 
fully down  the  hill  a  little  while  ago  ? " 
"Yes.   Colonel,  that  was  me."' 
"You,  John?     I  am  surprised.     Don't  you  re- 
member that  I  was  to  do  the  swearing  for  this 
regiment  ?~ 

"  Yes,  Colonel,  I  know,  but,  you  see,  I  was  corn- 
ins  up  the  hill  with  a  big  load  and  the  breeching 
broke.  The  swearing  had  to  be  done  right  away, 
and  you  weren't  there  to  do  it."'  And  the  team- 
ster made  the  military  salute  and  retir*^. 

Many  of  the  other  privates  were  -k)  full  of  %vit 
that  it  was  almost  impos.<ible  for  the  officers  to 
reprove  tnem.  General  Fisk.  years  afterward, 
used  to  say.  laughingly,  that  it  w:is  little  worth 
while  to  try  to  arzne  a  question  '.vith  Jolm.  his 
teamster,  as  he  always  got  the  best  of  the  argu- 
ment.—I  Annie  Wittenmyer. 


TRUE    STORIES    OF    THE    ^VAR    FOE    THE    I'XION. 


IV A  R    OX     THE    PLAIXS, 


A  YARN   OF  THE   TIME  OF   THE  SIOUX  UP- 


yiGHTlSG    AXD     CHVSrXG     IXDIAXS     IX     MIXXE- 
SOTA     IX    1S62. 

Clark,  S.  D.  Jan.  4.— ".Vhen  -we  returned  from 
ForC  SneUin^  to  Mankato  we  had  orders  to 
press  into  5er^•ice  horses  for  oar  whole  command 
of  110  men,  and  were  sent  to  Crystal  Lake. 
The  settlers  had  aU  left  the  country  and  we 
could  see  the  midnight  sky  lighted  up  by  the 
burning  buildings  at  New  Clm.  Now  and  then 
we  discovered  on  the  horizon  the  faint  light 
coming  from  some  set^ler'^  cabin,  the  last  of 
his  earthly  possc'ssions.  We  were  very  im^ 
patient  to  get  to  New  Ulm.  We  knew  we  were 
needed  there.  "SN'e  heard  that  the  town  was 
surrounded  by  Indians,  but  our  superior  officers 
ordered  otherwise. 

There  was  a  man  in  our  company  by  the  name 
of  Jim  Hoosier:  for  short,  we  called  him 
"  Whiskey  Jim. "  When  we  had  camped  for 
the  night,  he  said  to  the  captain :  "  I  am  going 
ti>  Xew  ULm :  my  father,  mother  and  youngest 
brother  live  twenty  miles  west  of  New  TTlm 
on  the  banks  of  the  Little  Cottonwood  Biver; 
and  I  am  going  to  know  tliis  night  whether 
they  hve  or  have  been  chopped  up  by  the  red 
imps." 

"Well,  if  you  go,"  said  the  captain,  -you 
must  look  out ;  it  will  be  running  the  gantlet." 

But  Jim  had  lived  on  the  frontier  and  was 
not  easily  scared. 

"VMien  darlxuess  had  once  more  cast  her  pro- 
tecting mantle  over  motlier  earth,  he  mounted 
a  powerful  black  horse,  sallied  forth  from  our 
camp,  and  w^ided  his  way  toward  New  Ulm. 
The  Big  Cottonwood  Biver  was  crossed,  and  there 
was  a  lonely  ride  of  five  miles  through  a  dense 
forest.  Nothing  of  note  occurred  until  Jim 
came  within  two  miles  of  town.  The  Indians 
liad  a  fire  by  the  roaaside,  and  wore  evidently 
guarding  the  m-iin  road. 

Jim  said  to  himself:  '^  WeL,  now,  this  is  a 
pretty  go.  What  is  to  be  done  now?  I  guess 
I  will  have  to  tiank  you  fellows,  for  I  reckon 
there  are  too  many  of  you  for  me  to  tackle 
single  handed." 

So,  leaving  the  main  road,  and  making  a  de- 
tour  to  the  south  for  a  mile,  he   came  upon  a 
liill,  whence  he  could  plainly  see  the  smould^ing 
Tiuns  of  the  outside   portion  of   the  town.     He 
now  advanced   in   a  bee   line  for   the   fire,   lying 
close  to  his  horse,  peering  in  every  direction  for 
red    skins.      He    moved    cautiously    along,    and 
seeing  nothing,  s  raightened   up,  feeling   that  he 
had  llankeil   the  Indiaiis  completely.     But  to  hb 
disappointment,    ho     waa     awakened     from    his 
security  by  the  whizzing  of  an   arrow   close   to 
his  head. 

"Well,  old  Tom,  we  will  have  to  run  for  it,"" 
.«aid  Jim.  Putting  spurs  to  his  horse  he  made 
a  dash  for  town.     The  outer  buUdings  were  all 


burned  and  smould^^g.  They  were  reached 
and  passed,  when  came  the  challenge  of  "  Halt : 
or  I  will  shoit :"' 

-Dont  shoot:  I  am  a  white  man  and  have 
run  the  Indians'  guard. 

-What's  your  name,  stranger?"  said  the 
sentineL 

-  Jim  Hoosier '.  ~ 

-Oh,  yes;  I  know  old  man  Hoosier:  they 
all  came  into  t^jwn  yesterday  before  the  fight. 
The  old  man  and  the  boy  did  some  tail  fightang." 

The  boy  had  had  a  double-barreUed  shotgun 
and  was  on  the  outside  breastworks,  at  a  point 
where  the  Indians  had  then  determined  to  come  in ; 
and  the  little  feUow  had  caused  many  a  red 
de^-il  to  leap  into  the  air  and  come  down  in  his 

d^ath  agony.  ,     ,     x- 

-Wheie  is  vour  next  guard?"'  asked  Jim. 
-We  will  have  to  double  the  guard,  for  they 
fired  at  me  with  their  bows  and  arrows,  and 
may  attack  us  before  mornirg.  Where  will  I 
find    my  father?' 

°  He  is  on  the  next  post  north  on  the  main 
road.  Wait  here  until  the  relief  comes  around. 
Then  you  can  fall  in  with  them,  and  they  will 
take  vou  to  him."' 

Throwing  himself  irom  his  horse,  he  cast  his 
eye  back  "along  his  trail.  He  dropped  down 
on  his  knees  and  could  see  above  the  rise  of 
the  CTOuTid  a  dark  object  crawling  toward  them. 

'•Whist,    come    here:''    he    whispered    to    the 

guard. 

Kneeling  beside  young  Ho.:^ier.  the  guard  said : 
-That   looks  like   a  dog  or  a  wolf." 

-  Hold  my  horse,"  said  Jim,  "  and  I  wiU  show 
vou  what  kind  of  a  dog  it  is." 

Crawling  off  to  one  side,  so  as  to  come  broad- 
side to  the  moving  object,  he  brought  his  old 
musket  to  his  shoulder.  A  flash  belched  forth 
and  a  leaden  minie  sped  on  its  errand  of  death. 
The  terrible  whoop  of  a  brawny  savage  broke 
the  stillness  of  the  breaking  dawn. 

"There,  you  red  cuss,  take  that  for  sneaking 
around  after  me,"  said  -Jim. 

The  yell,  however,  was  soon  answered  from 
different  points,  r-eemingly  from  a  thousand 
throats. 

'•Well,  pard,"  said  the  guani.  -that  was  like 
tipping  over  a  beehiAre:  they  wUl  be  down  on 
us  like  a  swarm  of  'skeeters,  and  we  had  bet- 
ter fall  back  to  the  rifle  pits  and  prepare   for 

a  battle." 

Jim  wanted  to  get  his  fat-  r  first:  and  they 
had  to  be  quick,  for  it  wa.  •  last  coming  day. 
The  next  i>ost  was  soon  reached,  and  father  and 
son  were  in  fond  embrace. 

-Well,  Jim,"  said  the  father,  *•!  knew  that 
wasn't  any  popgun  which  sent  that  redskin  to 
the  happy  hunting  grounds.  We  wiH  soon  have 
fun.     Fall  back  to  the  ritle  pits." 

Jim  wanted  his  father  to  take  the  horse  and 
ride  into  town  and  give  tbe  alarm,  he 'and  the 
2uard  holding  the  rifle  pits.  But  there  was 
no  use  in  th.-xr,  for  the  yeUs  would  have  raised 
the  dead,  and  by  the  rime  they  reached  the 
rifle  pits  there  were  a  hundred  men  there.  Every- 
body was   clamoring,   "Whose   gun  was  it    that 


LIBEAEY    OF    TEIBUNE    EXTEAS. 


bursted  f"  Nobody's  gun  had  bursted.  The  guard 
explained : 

"  Jim  Hoosier  came  up  with  an  army  gun,  a 
regular  cannon,  and  a  redskin  came  sneaking 
along  after  him;  and  Jim  says,  'Hold  my  hoss, 
pard,'  and  he  crawled  oft'  to  one  side,  and  the 
next  I  saw  was  a  flash ;  and  that  Indiain  went 
up  higher  than  my  head,  and  came  down  ker- 
whallop.  HarJv  I  they  are  coming !  Get  into  the 
pits  I" 

Like  so  manj'  demons  they  came  thundering 
on.  They  were  on  their  ponies.  Owing  to  the 
darkness  and  their  mad  hurry,  they  came  rush- 
ing on,  not  clinging  close,  as  is  their  custom, 
but  sitting  upright   in   their  saddles. 

"Eeadyl  aim!  fire!"  ran  along  the  line.  An 
awful,  trembling,  roaring  sound  bellowed  like 
an  earthquai^e.  TTie  volley  was  sudden  and 
unexpected,  and  the  aim  Avas  close.  Of  the 
howling  and  screeching  and  rearing  of  horses,  no 
pen  can  ever  tell  the  story.  All  who  were  able 
to  wheel  and  get  back  to  the  rear  went  there. 

"There,''  said  the  old  man  Hoosier,  "they  got 
a  good  send-off  that  time." 

The  scampering  of  the  ponies  soon  died  away,  and 
aH  was  quiet  at  post  No.  1.  But,  hark!  An 
attack  was  being  made  on  the  other  side  of 
the  town.  *"  ■*  ** 

"Twenty-five  men  stay  Jiere ;  the  balance  fol- 
low me!"  was  the  command  of  the  old  man 
Hoosier;  wnd  the  party  were  soon  in  the  thick- 
est of  the  %ht.  The  Indians  had  been  more 
cautious  on  that  side  of  the  town.  They  had 
crawled  up  toward  the  outpost,  and  were  just 
in  the  act  of  knifing  the  guard  when  he  shot 
the  foremost  Indian  and  gave  the  alarm;  but 
he  had  fired  liis  last  shot.  He  went  down  un- 
der the  stroke  of  a  tomahawk.  The  Indians 
were  soon  driven  back. 

Several  more  attacks  were  made,  but  with 
heavy  losses  to  the  Indians.  T]ie  sun  rose  clear 
upon  a  sickening  scene.  It  was  the  most  beautiful 
valley  and  town  on  tJie  JVIinnesota  Eiver,  and 
the  plam  Avas  strewn  with  dead  and  dying  human 
beings,  wliile  the  defenders  of  the  towji  were 
grimy  with  powder  and  pale  and  haggard  from 
long  and  weary  watching  and  hard  fighting. 

Satisfied  that  there  would  be  no  other  attack 
for  a  while,  Jim  Hoosier  Aveut  to  see  his  mother 
and  Johnnie.  The  meeting  between  mother,  son 
and  brother  was  an  affectionate  one.  After 
breakfast  a  scouting  party  was  sent  out  along 
the  timber.  Net  a  trace  of  an  Indian  was  seen. 
Cotning  to  a  small  bunch  of  hazel  brush,  one  of 
the  party  said:  "There  was  where  poor  Eeu 
Foster  got  his  last  shot  last  night.  He  and 
Charley  Tidling  were  here,  having  come  home 
on  parole  I'rom  the  3d  Eegiment.  They  were  in 
the  fight  of  yesterday."  After  the  Indians  had 
fallen  back  to  the  woods  they  had  followed 
them  to  thh,  clump  of  brush,  and  secreted  them- 
selves in  here,  and  many  a  redskin  had  been 
made  to  bite  the  dust  from  their  long  range  Spring- 
field rifles.  The  Indian?  having  disappeared 
altogether,  Ben  had  grown  restless,  and  lold  Char- 
ley he  was  going  to  stir  them  up.  So  he  had 
started  for  the  woods,  but  had  njt  gone  five  rods 


l)ei"ore  he  Avas  shot.  Then  a  brawny  savage 
had  sallied  forth  to  scalp  him,  but  an  unerring 
shot  from  Charley's  rifle  sent  him  to  his  happy 
hunting-ground.  Charley  was  determined  to 
save  his  comrade's  scalp  or  die  in  the  attempt. 
When  darkness  once  mere  mantled  the  earth,  he 
had  come  back  to  town,  gut  help,  and  brought 
back  his  dead  comrade. 

Thus  ended  the  first  day's  fight.  Seeing  no 
more  signs  of  Indians,  Jim  Hoosier  set  out  for 
camp.  On  reaching  the  river,  he  saw  a  red 
blanket  on  a  l)ush  below  the  ford.  "  Well,  let's 
see  what  this  means,"  he  said.  Tying  his  horse 
to  a  tree,  he  cruwled  through  the  brush  as  near 
as  practicable,  and  saw  two  Indians  in  swimming. 
Drawing  a  bead  on  the  largest  one,  he  sent  liim 
beneath  the  water.  Hastening  back  to  his 
horse,  he  crossed  the  river,  and  lost  no  time  in 
getting  back  to  camp,  and  reported  that  New 
Ulm  would   be  evacuated  the  next  day. 

When  the  27th  Wisconsin  Infantry  relieved  us 
from  New  *Ulm  we  were  sent  back  to  Camp 
Criss,  twenty  miles  wept  of  Mankafco.  Shortly 
after  we  camped  there  two  half-breed  Indians 
came  to  our  camp  with  orders  for  twenty-five  of 
our  company  to  act  as  escort  for  tlio  2Ttli  Wis- 
consin. They  were  ordered  to  march  to  Sib- 
ley's camp  for  duty.  We  joined  the  27th  at 
New  Ulm,  and  then  started  for  General  Sibley's 
camp,  at  Mud  Lake,  forty  miles  above  Fort 
Eidgley.  Wo  reached  the  fort  at  noon,  crossed 
the  river  on  the  ferry,  and  reported  to  head- 
quarters for  dinner.  The  commander  of  the 
post  said  :  "  There  has  not  been  any  communica- 
tion with  General  'Sibley  since  the  half-breeds 
went  down  to  your  camp,  and  I  am  afraid  the 
Indians  liave  got  between  his  forces  and  t)ie  fort ; 
and  I  will  have  to  hold  you  here  until  I  can  send 
a  courier  through  aiid  see  what  is  the  trouble.'' 

"  Well,  commander,  this  is  ur.expected.  If  it 
had  not  been  for  my  men  and  horses  I  should  not 
have  crossed  the  river  to  the  fort." 

"  It  is  better  as  it  is,  Lieutenant,  for  it  was 
only  day  before  yesterday  that  Captain  Marsh 
was  sliot  by  tlie  Indians.  He  was  talking  hi* 
company  across  the  river,  and  the  Indians  drove 
them  back  with  heavy  loss,  and  Captain  Marsh, 
has  not  'jeeii  found  yet." 

The  men  were  impatient  They  .said  :  '"  We  are 
scouts  to  hunt  up  the  red  devils  and  punish  them 
for  their  infernal  deeds,  and  now  here  we  are 
trapped  and  shut  up  in  this  old  fort.  This  is 
unbearable.  Well,  bny«,  we  will  have  to  make 
the  best  of  it." 

It  was  too  confining  for  us  rangers,  lioA\ever, 
so,  after  dinner,  we  wanted  to  see  how  many 
Indians  there  were  in  the  woods.  We  made  a 
break  and  skirmished  for  two  hours,  charged  on 
a  plum  thicket  and  carried  off  about  a  barrel  of 
plums.  We  saw  the  remains  of  one  good  Indian 
during  the  excursion.  On  returning  to  the  fort 
we  saw  a  crowd  at  headquarters  and  soon  learned) 
that  they  had'  found  the  remains  of  Captain  Marwh 
and  were  preparing  for  burial.  We  fell  inio  line, 
marched  to  the  grave  and  witnessed  the  solemn, 
burial  of  a  bravo  soldier.  Three  volleys  were- 
fired  over  the  grave. 


TEUE    STORIES    OF    THE    WAE    FOE    THE    UNION. 


37- 


On  returning  to  the  fort  several  of  the  wouuded 
had  just  arrived.  "  Halloo,  what's  up  ?  Has 
there  been  a  battle?  Well,  I  should  say  so" 
There  was  one  poor  fellow  all  shot  to  pieces. 
Why  was  it  that  we  could  not  ha^'e  a  little  fight 
with  the  Indians?  We  had  been  s'^ou'ing  every 
day  and  j^et  the  Indians  would  not  give  us  one 
squint  at  their  noble  form.  There  were  thirty 
or  forty  all  told  of  the  wounded.  "  How  many 
did  you  hurt?"  we  asked.  "That  we  can't  tell," 
they  replied,  "  but  we  think  the  Indians  lost 
double  our  number."  Oh,  how  we  wished— we 
would  have  given  anything  if  we  could  have 
ridden  in  on  their  flank  and  lifted  the  topknots 
off  from  about  a  thousand  of  them. 

The  mule  train  had  been  sent  out  to  the  In- 
dians' gardens  for  forage.  Tlie  Indians  gobbled 
them  all  except  one  man.  This  man  loosened  a 
mule,  shot  his  way  through  the  Indians,  reached 
eamp  and  gave  the  alarm.  The  mule  train  had 
been  surrounded  and  captured  by  the  Indians. 
The  3d  Eegiment  grabbed  their  guns  and  was 
off  on  the  double-quick  to  the  scene  of  action. 
The  Indians  were  on  a  rolling  prauie.  The  3d 
Eegiment  took  advantage  of  a  ravine,  opened  fire 
and  slew  them  right  and  left.  Although  the 
Indians  outnumbered  our  force  two  to  one,  they 
could  not  stand  our  long-range  riiies,  and  the 
3d  EegTToent  sent  them  howling  back  to  their 
town  like  a  pack  of  wolves. 

The  wouuded  men  were  taken  to  the  hospital 
and  had  their  wounds  dressed. 

After  our  little  squad  had  turned  in  for  the 
night  the  Indian  problem  had  to  be  solved. 
Lieutenant  Eoberts  made  a  little  speech  :  •'  Fol- 
low comrades!  We  have  been  called  upon  to 
witness  anotlier  sad  burial  of  a  dear  comrade,  cut 
down  in  full  health  and  vigor  by  the  red  devils 
of  the  forest ;  and  again  we  are  called  upon  to 
behold  the  mangled  and  bleeding  forms  of  more 
of  our  comrades.  We  cannot  help  it,  b.oj'S.  You 
know  it  isn't  my  fault,  and  it  is  none  of  yours,  for 
we  have  ridden  night  and  day,  rain  and  shine, 
and  worked  liard  to  get  tboin  to  attack  us.  But 
they  won't.  Tiicy  dodge  us  on  every  hand.  But 
I  will  make  them  one  promise.  If  we  ever  get 
them  out  of  the  woods  we  never  will  leave  one 
to  get  back  to  tell  what  became  of  the  rest. " 

"  Three  cheers  for  Lieutenant  Eoberts.  "  They 
were  given  with  a  will,  and  we  went  to  sleep 
for  the  night.  But  I  did  not  sleep  much.  ]\Iy 
head  was  filled  with  dreams  of  wounded  men  and 
Indians,  and  my  stomach  was  too  full  of  wild 
plums. 

At  3  o'clock  in  the  morning  there  came  orders 
for  our  company  and  six  pieces  of  artUlery  from 
the  fort  to  move  to,  General  Sibley's  headquar- 
ters at  once.  By  reason  of  my  having  had 
two  suppers— one  of  supper  and  the  other  of 
plums— I  had  to  be  left  behind.  I  was  left  in 
care  of  O'Connor,  one  of  our  men,  who  had  been 
detailed  in  the  arsenal  at  the  fort.  Our  men 
filed  out  into  the  darkness  and  across  the  river, 
and  all  was  quiet  once  more.  There  was  no 
sound  except  the  lone  sentry's  tread.  Day 
dawned  at  last  and  found  me  somewhat  worse 
for  duty.       O'Connor  went  over  to  the  Commis- 


sary's and  got  some  tjea,  coffee,  beef,  cabbage  and 
other  provisions. 

"Now,"  he  said,  "stuff  yourself.  A  cup  of 
that  tea  just  as  strong  as  you  can  drink  it  will 
fetch  you  out  all  right." 

"Can  you  cook  cabbage  and  beef,"  I  asked; 
"  I  wanti  an  old-fashioned  boiled  dinner  just  lilte 
what  my  mother  used  to  cook"" 

"'I  don't  know  how  your  mother  used  to  cook," 
he  said,  "but  I  can  cook  the  way  my  mother 
used  to  very  well." 

"Cook,  then,  j'our  way,  and  I  will  be  the 
judge." 

I  tested  the  virtue  of  the  tea,  and  ifc  worke* 
lilte  magic.  I  had  the  boiled  dinner  so  nearly 
perfect  that  O'Connor  almost  went  into  hysterics. 
He  said  it  took  him  back  to  when  he  was  a  Mttje 
boy  and  eating  his  mother's  cooking;  it  made 
him  think  of  his  grandmother  and  Ike  and  all 
of  her  relations. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "I  think  to-morrow  I  will  be 
able  to  go  to  Sibley's  camp.'»  "What I"  said 
O'Connor,  "you  don't  think  of  starting  out  from, 
this  fort  alone?" 

"Yes,   why  not?" 

"  Because  you  would  be  charged  with  desertiony 
arrested  and  brought  back." 

"I  would  not  be  deserting,"  I  said.  "I  would 
be  going  to  my  own  company."  "It  makes  n» 
difference,"  said  he,  "that  is  military  orclers.  No. 
enhsted  man  can  leave  any  post  or  garrisoui 
alone." 

"  That  is  tough,"  I  said.  "  I  have  got  to  stay- 
cooped  up  here  like  a  rat  in  a  trap." 

"I  expect  yoiu  will  have  to  stay  right  her© 
until  your  company  comes  back." 

V/ell,  I  always  was  unlucky  anyway,  but  it  is- 
a  very  foul  wind  that  blows  nobody  any  good. 
The  sun  was  just  sinking  behind  the  western 
hills,  and  it/s  golden  rays  were  playing  around 
the  topmost  corners  of  the  battered  old  fort 
when  I  went  to  the  back  yard  to  draw  a  pail  of 
water.  To  my  surprise  I  found  two  pretty  girl* 
there  drawing  water.  They  had  not  noticed 
me.  I  stepped  to  the  side  of  the  largest  one, 
seized  the  well  rope  and  said  :  "  Please  let  me  as- 
sist you,  fair  lady!"  They  both  fell  back 
startled.  I  said,  "Don't  be  afraid,  ladies;  I  am 
not  a  crow,  nor  a  Comanclie  Indian  en  the  war- 
path." 

"Oh,  you  are  not  to  blame,"  one  replied;  "we 
were  just  talkin^j  about  how  long  it  had  beea 
since  oiur  father  and  mother  had  been  killed  by 
the  Indians." 

"Were  your  folks  killed  by  the  Indians?" 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "and  we  barely  escaped  with 
our  lives." 

"I  am  a  soldier,"  said  I,  "and  I  would  be 
pleased  to  have  you  stay,  for  I  have  been  a-scout- 
ing  for  six  weeks,  and  have  seen  so  much  of 
their  hellish  works,  it  moves  me  with  the  deepest 
of  sjTnpathy  for   the  survivors." 

She  then  told  this  story  : 

"My  father  moved  to  the  Yellow  Medicine- 
last  spring,  near  the  Indian  village.  All  waa- 
peace  and  quiet  until  the  morning  of  the  out- 
break.    My  mother  sent  us  to   our  neighbors  on. 


28 


LIBRAEY    OF    TEIBUNE    EXTRAS. 


an  errand.  We  were  returning  home  (when  we 
met  another  neighbor  who  lived  nearer  to  the 
Indian  village.  He  was  running  and  hallooing 
at  the  top  of  his  voice:  'Run  for  your  hves; 
the  Indians  have  broken  out  and  are  killing 
everybody;  don't  go  home,  for  your  father  and 
mother  are  both  killed.;  now,  run  for  your 
lives.'  We  turned  and  ran  to  the  woods,  and 
followed  the  timber  and  windings  of  the  river 
until  we  reached  the  fort.  We  arrived  here  only 
the  night  before  they  attacked  the  fort.  That 
was  a  hard  battle.  We  thought  surely  the  fort 
would  be  burned.  You  see  the  top  of  that 
frame  building?"  pointing  to  the  only  wooden 
building  in  the  fort. 

"  Yes, "  I  said,  "  I  was  looking  that  over 
yesterday.  I  see  the  upper  story  is  all  riddled 
with  bullets." 

"The  Indians  would  run  up  to  the  walls  of 
the  fort  and  shoot  arrows  with  burning  rag? 
tied  to  them  to  set  the  buildings  on  Sre,  and 
they  nearly  accomplished  it.  The  soldiers  cut 
holes  through  the  roof  to  throw  water  on  the 
fire.  The  Indians  besieged  the  fort  for  tiree 
days,  but  were  finally  driven  ofl." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "it  is  dark,  and  I  am  keeping 
you  out  here  in  the  night  Can  I  see  you  here 
to-morrow  ?  " 

'Ihey  replied  :  "  We  shall  go  to  St.  Peter  as  soon 
as  we  can  get  there.  We  have  two  uncles  living 
at  Forest  City,  and  intend  going  to  live  with 
them." 

I  then  went  to  my  quarters  for  the.  night.  ]My 
dreams  were  troubled.  I  could'  see  burning  build- 
ings, flaming  arrows,  and  the  form  of  a  brawny 
savage  with  a  long  knife  pursuing  a  frightened 
Tvoman,  or  about  to  lift  the  scalp  lock  of  a 
ehrinking,  fallen  victim,  and  I  seemed  to  be 
chained,  unable  to  help  them.  L'ut  at  last  day 
broke  and  I  rushed  out  to  get  breakfast.  O'Con- 
nor was  already  out,  and  before  I  had  breakfast 
half  ready,  he  came  rushing  in  to  say :  "  If  you 
want  to  go  te  Sibley's  camp,  now  is  your  time, 
for  Major  Skelly  has  come  with  a  dispatch  for 
^Sibley,  and  if  you  insist  on  going,  I  will  get 
him  to  take  you  in  his  company." 

"  All  right, "  said  I,  "  many  thanks.  Just 
throw  my  horse  a  handful  or  two  of  oats,  while 
you  are  hands^  by.  Thank  God,  I  will  get  out 
of  this  old  dismal  fort  for  a  whale.  Now,  then, 
you  take  my  canteen,  fill  it  with  water,  take 
my  haversack  and  fill  it.  with  bread  and  meat. " 
O'Connor  gave  me  sixty  more  cartridges, 
flaying :  "  You  are  going  with  strange  men,  and 
you  want  to  be  prepared  for  the  worst.  You 
don't  know  as  you  will  ever  get  to  Sible.y's 
camp.  Take  enough  provisions  to  last  you  a 
week. " 

"  We  have  always  found  plenty  to  eat  without 
carrying  it  with  us,"  I  said. 

"You  may  not  find  anything  where  you  are 
going,"  said  O'Counor. 

But  1  beihg  young  and  thoughtless  t.oiok  bread 
and  meat  enough  for  one  meal.  The  rest  of  the 
men  did  not  take  a  bite  of  anything  to  eat 
-with  them. 

We    crossed    the    ^iver    and    took    the    trail. 


All  went  well  until  noon.  Then  the  men  were 
hungry,  but  had  nothing  to  eat.  I  gave  my 
piece  of  bread  and  meat  to  a  boy  about  my 
own  age  and  told  him  I  would  divide  with 
him.  He  took  it,  broke  it  in  two,  kept  a 
generous  half  himself  and  passed  the  rest  on 
to  his  chum.  I  made  up  my  mind  that  my 
generosity  would  eventually  bring  me  to  hun- 
ger. About  2  o'clock  the  sergeant  of  the  squad 
fainted  and  fell  from  his  horse.  The  doctor 
gave  him  some  restoratives  and  got  him  up 
again,  and  we  went  on.  About  4  o'clock  he 
fainted  again.  The  doctor  applied  his  restora- 
tives, but  the  sergeant  was  so  overcome  with 
fatigue  and  hunger  that  he  could  not  rally. 
So  the  Major  said  :  "  Two  of  you  stay  with  him 
and  when  we  get  to  camp  we  will  send  a 
wagon  after  him."     Then  on  we  rushed. 

To  our  disappointment,  the  sun  had  set  when 
we  reached  the  old  campground  at  Mud  Lake. 
A  few  empty  barrels  and  the  ritle  pits  were 
aU  that  was  left  to  testify  to  that  having  been 
Sibley's    camp. 

"We'll  aU  be  kilted,"  says  Pat.  Dorgan  ;  "  three 
of    our    men    left    behind,    Sibley    gone    to    the 

d ,    amd    Ingens   all   around    us.     Bad  luck   to 

the   day   I    iver   jined    to    foight   Ingens."    . 

Somebody  suggested  that  he  had  moved  to 
the  Yellow  Medicine,  about  four  miles ;  we  could 
easily  follow  his  trail  and  reach  there  before 
dark.  On  we  rushed,  but  only  to  another  dis- 
appointment. Darkness  had  cast  a  gloom  over 
mother  earth  long  before  we  reaiched  the  river. 
The  Indian  village,  situated  on  the  north  side 
of  the  river,  lay  in  smouldering  ruins.  The  gen- 
tle night  breeze  fanned  the  embers  into  a  blaze 
and  sent  up  a  sickening  glare,  and  made  the 
timid  think  that  every  spark  was  an  Indian. 
"Oh!"  said  Pat,  "we  will  all  be  kUted : 
I  seed  an  Ingen  lape  rite  out  of  the  fire." 
We  crossed  the  river,  wound  around  a  small 
thicket  of  brush,  climbed  a  hill  on  the  north 
and  hallooed  long  and  loud.  But  all  was  still 
as  the  grave.  We  then  filed  to  the  left  and 
followed  the  main'  road  for  a  mile,  but  all  was 
blank.     Then  said  the  Major  : 

"  We  will  return  to  the  rifle  pits,  and  encamp 
for  the  night.     About    face,  march!" 

As  I  had  been  near  the  rear,  the  order  brought 
me  in  front.  My  horse  was  nearly  exhausted, 
but  the  doctor's  was  more  so ;  and  when  I 
was  about  half-way  down  the  hill,  "Halt!"  came 
the  order.  Tlie  doctor's  horse  had  fallen  down ; 
but  the  man  ahead  of  me  moved  on,  and  two 
more  passed  by.  Then  I  turned  my  horse  across 
the  road,  and  said  : 

"Don't  desert  j-our  commander:"  Then  the 
man   in    front    cried    out : 

"Boys,  do  you  see  that?"  A  gust  of  wind 
had  taken  the  .sparks  heavenward.  It  made  my 
hair  stand  on  end.  "For  God's  sake  follow  me!" 
he  yelled,  and  away  they  went.  Another  man 
passed    me.     Then   I    shouted : 

"  Don't  arother  man  pass  me,  or  I  will  drop 
you   right   here." 

Tlien  came  the  order,  "All  right,  forward!" 
We   rushed    on   to    the    riSe   pits.     No    deserters 


TEUE    STOEIES    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    THE    UNION. 


2  0- 


were  there.  The  order  was  then  to  go  out 
to  good  feed,  and  then  CJimp.  Two  miles  took 
us  out  to  good  feed.  Tlien  we  let  out  our 
bridle  reins,  held  one  end,  rolled  ourselves  in 
our  overcoats,  and  soon  forgot  the  troubles  of 
this  world.  Just  as  the  gray  streak  of  dawn 
was  creeping  into  the  eastern  sky  I  awoke, 
sprang  to  my  feet  and  gazed  over  a  group  of 
tired  men  and  horsi>s,  wrapped  in  silent  slum- 
ber. I  aroused  my  poor,  tired  horse,  crossed  to 
where  the  major  and  doctor  lay  and  awoke  them. 
"Come:  it  is  time  Ave  were  on  the  move." 

We  soor  had  the  men  all  awake,  but  the 
doctor's  horse  was  di)ne  for  The  men  lifted 
him  to  his  feet,  but  he  couhl  not  stand. 

"Well,"'  the  doctor  said,  "it  is  very  plain  I 
am  out  a  horse.  Now,  boys,  I  have  a  dispatch 
that  must  go  to  General  Sililey.  Will  you  so  with 
me  to  take  it  ?" 

"Bedad,"  said  Pat  Dorgan,  "it's  not  the  loiks 
of  me  that  wants  to  run  the  risk  of  me  loife 
going  through  that  burnin'  valley  agin.  We'll 
all  be  kilted."  Another  man  said  :  "  If  you  will  go 
back  and  get  the  sergeant  and  the  rest  of  our  men, 
we  will  all  go  willingly." 

So  back  we  went  to  where  we  left  the  sergeant, 
but  all  were  gone.  Then  came  another  parley. 
Not  a  man  wanted  to  go  with  the  Major,  but  the 
doctor  said  :  "  Major,  if  you  will  let  me  ride  your 
horse  part  of  the  time,  I  will  stick  to  you. ''  Said 
I :  "  Major,  are  you  in  command  of  this  company  ? " 
"  I  am,"  he  replied.  He  straightened  himself  in 
his  saddle  and  said :  "  Men,  follow  me,"  and  once 
more  headed  his  horse  toward  the  burning  valley. 
I  fell  in  behind  him,  and  said  :  "  Come,  boys,  if 
you  go  to  the  fort  the  Indians  will  scalp  every 
last  one  of  you."  We  followed  the  Major.  When 
we  reached  the  Indian  village,  the  sun  was  high 
up  and  everything  looked  differently  from  what 
it  did  in  the  dark.  We  followed  the  trail  until 
afternoon.  Our  horses  were  badly  jaded  and  the 
men  were  tired  and  hungry.  I  got  off,  left  my 
gun  hanging  on  the  saddle,  and  let  the  doctor  ride 
my  horse.  The  party  moved  ahead,  then  stopped. 
When  I  came  up  to  them  the  Major  and  doctor 
were  forty  rods  in  advance  of  the  others.  I  said : 
"Wlaat's  up  now?"  "Bedad,"  says  Pat,  "we're  all 
scalped ;  them  Ingens  have  surrounded  us ;  the 
Major  is  out  on  the  hill  spying  them. "  I  went  up 
to  where  they  were  sitting  on  the  horses. 

"  Well,  what  are  you  waiting  for  ?"  said  I. 

The  Major  replied  :  "  We  have  got  to  go  back 
to  the  fort  to  get  reinforcements.  I  am  afraid 
that  the  Indians  have  captured  Sibley  and  his 
whole  command. " 

"  Tliat  cannot  be  possible, "  said  I ;  "  and  if  they 
had,  there  are  not  men  enough  in  the  fort  to  help 
him  any.  I  think  those  new  tents  to  the  right 
are  Sibley's,  and  those  othex's  are  the  Indians' .  and 
that  white  flag  in  the  centre  is  a  flag  of  truce. 
If  we  follow  this  road  it  will  take  us  right  into 
camp." 

"No,"  said  he,  "it  would  be  foolhardy  to  run 
into  danger,  so  Ave  will  return  to  the  fort." 

Said  I :  "  We  never  can  stand  the  jaunt.  Our 
horses  are  all  tired  out  and  the  men  haven't 
tasted    food,    since    yesterday    mornin?.     It    will 


take  us  two  days  more  to  reach  the  fort  Doctor, 
if  you  will  gi\'e  me  my  horse  I  will  go  to  canip> 
alone." 

"  No, "  said  the  ^Major,  "  you  will  have  to  go 
to  the  fort  Avith  us.  You  Avould  bring  the  Indians 
all  down  on  us." 

"Well,  give  me  my  gun  and  I  will  go  afoot." 

"  No,  Ave  Avon't  do  that,  either.  You  are  sub- 
ject to  my  orders  and  if  you  desert  us  noAv  I  will 
report  you  as  a  deserter." 

"You  are  a  set  of  d cowards,"  I  answered. 

"Young  man,  do  you  knoAv  you  are  talking  to 
a  commissioned  oflicer,  and  I  could  have  you  court- 
martialled  for  insult  to  your  superior?" 

"WeU,"  I  said,  "I  think  if  I  were  a  commis- 
sioned officer  I  woudn't  disgrace  those  brass  but- 
tons with  such  cowardice." 

Faiiing  his  horse  %o  the  rear,  the  ilajor  said : 
"Young  man,  follow  me."  I  aroise,  but  they 
moA'ed  off  and  left  me  standing  and  unarmed. 
So  much  for  getting  into  bad  company.  I  turned 
and  trudged  after  them  about  five  miles.  The 
doctor  then  gaA^e  me  my  horse.  Near  tjie  YelloAW 
Medicine  we  found  an  Indian  garden  and  dug 
up  some  Irish  potatoes,  and  we  made  a  fije  at 
the  rifle  pits  and  roasted  them.  We  traA-elled 
all  night  and  the  next  day,  and  just  as  the  sun 
was  sinking  behind  the  tree  tops  we  pulled  into 
Fort  Eidgely  tired,  sleepy  and  hungry,  as  we  had 
been  three  days  and  two  nights  Avith  nothing  ex- 
cept a  few  half-cooked  potatioes  to  eat.  The 
next  day  my  company  came  down ;  and  Major 
Skelly  found  I  was  right  about  the  tents  and  the 
flag  oif  truce.  The  next  day  we  bade  farewell 
to  Fort  Ridgely  and  returned  to  Camp  Criss 

F.  E.  MIIJLER. 

Co.   E,   9th  Minn.   Infantry. 

A  FRIENDSHIP    MADE  ON  THE  FIELD. 

Monticello,  111.,  Jan.  28.— It  was  after  the 
terrible  charge  at  Jackson,  Mississippi,  in  July, 
1863,  that  our  old  colonel,  Isaac  C.  Fugh,  called 
on  us  to  go  oA^er  to  the  battlefield  the  next 
day  after  the  charge  with  a  flag  of  truce,  and 
see  if  we  could  not  get  permission  from  the 
Confederates  to  remove  our  wounded  and  bury 
the  dead.     We  were  only  too  glad  to  do  this. 

In  company  with  Uncle  John  Fletcher,  our 
old  mail-carrier ;  Robert  W.  Eickard  and  James 
D.  English,  field-bearers,  we  started  on  our 
mission.  We  liad  always  thought  that  it  was 
against  the  laws  of  ciAilized  warfare  to  fire 
on  a  flag  of  truce  and  felt  no  alarm  while  carry- 
ing this  emblem  of  peace.  We  went  down  to 
the  Avoods  where  we  had  been  when  the  charge 
was  made,  and  instructed  the  field-bearers  to 
stop  in  the  timber  until  Ave  went  forward  and 
secured  the  consent  of  the  Confederates  to  re- 
move the  wounded.  Just  as  we  stepped  out 
in  the  open  field  we  saw  three  Confederates  on 
their  post.  They  jumped  up  and  grabbed  their 
guns.  We  waved  the  Avhite  flag  and  mounted 
a  stump  about  a  foot  high,  so  that  wc  would  be 
in  full  view  of  the  enemy.  We  were  just  on  the 
eve  of  caUIrg  to  them  and  explaining  our  mis- 
sion when  one  of  them  raised  Ms  gun  and 
fired,  the  ball  passing?  just  to  our  left.     We  made 


30 


LIBRAEY    OF    TRIBUNE    EXTRAS. 


»  leap  and  fell  on  the  ground.  That  Johnnie 
may  have  thought  he  had  silenced  one  Yankee, 
but  he  was  badly  mistaken,  for  we  still  live, 
although  it  was  a  very  close  call.  Old  Uncle 
John  Fletcher  called  to  us  to  "  come  on  and 
get  out  of  there" ;  and  they  sent  a  baU  after 
him,  but  it  did  not  hit  him.  We  were  boya 
then,  and  this  was  our  first  experience  in  the 
flasr  of  truce  business. 

Tl  e  next  day  General  W.  T.  Sherman  sent  in 
a  flag  of  truce  to  General  Joseph  E.  Johnston,  and 
there  was  a  cessation  of  hostilities  all  along  the 
lines  untU  tlie  dead  who  fell  in  that  terrible 
■charge  were  buried.  They  had  lain  there  for 
three  days  and  were  changed  almost  be5'ond  recog- 
nition. I  had  been  wounded  in  the  right  hand 
and  shoulder,  but  made  my  way  over  on  the  bat- 
tlefield to  where  the  Confederates  were  burying 
the  dead.  They  received  me  kindly  and  gave  me 
all  the  information  they  could  about  the  killed 
and  wounded.  Our  loss  had  been  fearful.  Of 
the  remnants  of  four  old  regiments,  the  ^8th,  41st 
and  53d  Illinois  and  the  3d  Iowa  and  one  sec- 
tion of  the  15th  Ohio  Battery,  over  two  thirds  of 
the  number  who  went  into  the  charge  had  been 
killed  or  wounded. 

While  on  that  field  I  met  the  men  who  did  the 
burying  of  the  dead.  They  were  of  the  2d  and 
and  3d  Florida  Confederate  Regiments.  Among 
them  was  a  Mr.  Samuel  Pasco,  who  was  a  member 
■of  the  3d  Florida  and  liVed  at  Monticello,  Fla. 
He  had  ,formerlj''  lived  at  Cambridgeport,  Mass., 
and  all  his  relations  were  living  there.  He  asked 
tne  to  do  him  the  favor  to  write  to  his  parents 
and  family  at  Cambridgeport  and  let  them  know 
that  he  was  alive  and  in  the  army.  I  told  him 
that  I  would,  and  requested  that  he  write  a  few 
lines  on  a  leaf  of  his  day-book  and  sign  his  name. 
This  he  did.  I  enclosed  the  leaf  with  my  letter. 
When  the  bugle  sounded,  and  the  signal-gun  was 
fired  we  had  to  separate  and  each  one  go  to  his 
own  side.  I  bade  him  farewell;  and  when  I  ar- 
rived at  camp  I  sat  down  and  with  my  left  hand 
wrote  a  letter  to  his  family,  I  could  not  use  my 
right  hand,  because  it  had  been  torn  by  a  minie 
ball.  The  two  armies  separated  and  liis  went  off 
into  Tennessee,  wliile  ours  went  back  to  Vicksburg, 
Miss.  In  a  reasonable  thne  I  received  a  letter 
from  his  sisters,  who  were  glad  to  hear  from  their 
brother.  They  sent  a  letter  for  him,  but  I  car- 
ried that  letter  until  almost  the  close  of  the  war 
without  having  had  an  opportunity  to  deliver  it. 

Time  rolled  on  and  the  war  ended.  We  returned 
home,  forgetting  our  old  friend  Pasco,  never  ex- 
pecting to  meet  him  again  on  this  earth ;  but  when 
the  National  Democratic  Convention  met  in  Chi- 
cago in  18S4  and  the  National  Committee  was  made 
up,  I  saw  among  the  names  that  of  Samuel  Pasco, 
of  Florida.  I  wrote  him  to  know  if  he  was  the 
same  man  I  had  met  on  that  battlefield  at  Jackson, 
Miss.,  twenty-one  years  ago.  He  replied  that  he 
was  the  same  man,  and  gave  me  a  brief  history  of 
his  army  life.  After  meeting  me  there  his  command 
had  been  sent  to  Tennessee,  and  he  had  taken  part 
In  the  battle  of  Missionary  Ridge.  He  was  wounded 
there  and  was  left  on  the  field,  and  was  captured 
»nd  taken  North,  where  he  remained  until  the  close 


of  the  war,  when  he  was  exchanged.  At  the  close 
of  the  war  he  went  back  to  Florida,  married  and 
raised  a  family.  We  kept  up  our  corropondence,  and 
met  for  the  first  time  at  the  Southern  Hotel  at  St. 
Louis,  ]\Io.,  in  1888.  [Mr.  Pasco  was  elected  presi- 
dent of  the  Constitutional  Convention  of  Florida, 
and  was  elected  to  the  United  States  Senate  ia 
IS 77,  and  he  is  there  now  serving  Ms  State.  He 
is  a  gentleman  who  is  well  liked  by  all  who  know 
him.  E.  T.  LEE, 

41st  Illinois  Infantry. 


:E^T    AHEAD    OF   THE  COLL'MN. 


TORPEDOES    IX    THE    nOAD    AXD    A     SQUAD    DE- 
TAILED  TO   FIND   THEM— GENERAL   SHER- 
MAX    UXDER    A     HOT    EIRE    OF 
CAXISTER   AXD    SHELL. 

Emery,  111.,  Jan.  23.-On  December  10,  18G4, 
at  the  termination  of  that  ever  memorable  "  March 
to  the  Sea,"  a  detachment  of  cavalry  at  the  head 
of  the  column  under  command  of  a  handsome 
and  soldierly  looking  lieutenant  was  making  its 
way  along  the  sandj^  causeway  which  at  that 
place  ran  some  thirty  yards  to  the  right  of  the 
Georgia  Central  Railroad  as  it  entered  the  city. 
The  horse  of  the  heutenant  suddenly  trod  on  a 
buried  torpedo,  exploding  it.  The  horse  was 
killed  and  one  of  the  ofiicer's  feet  was  torn  off  at 
the  ankle.  The  head  of  the  infantry  column  (the 
1 7th  A.  C),  wlilch  was  a  short  distance  in  the 
rear,  was  instantly  halted.  General  Sherman  was 
on  foot  at  the  head  of  the  corps,  and  was  very 
angry  over  such  modes  of  warfare.  He  imme- 
diately ordered  a  detail  of  six  rebels  from  among 
the     prisoners,     saying    in     his     impulsive     way 

"  he      would      be      d d ;      if      they      wanted 

to  blow  men  up  by  such  means  they 
could  try  it  on  some  of  their  own."  Sergeant 
Cole,  of  my  company,  had  charge  of  the  detach- 
ment, wliich  consisted  of  six  rebels  and  sii  blue- 
coats.  Sergeant  Cole  being  my  bunkmate,  I 
volunteered  and  went  with  him,  which  made 
thirteen  of  us.  The  rebel  detail  was  quickly  and 
quietly  made.  I  suppose  none  of  us  were  free 
from  a  feeling  of  dread  while  we  were  getting 
ready  and  watching  the  surgeons  dress  the 
wounded  lieutenant. 

We  moved  forward  in  sections  of  four,  close 
ranks,  and  covered  thirty  or  forty  pac^  to  the 
front  before  the  troops  were  put  in  motion.  We 
had  orders  from  General  Sherman  that  if  we  saw 
any  signs  of  torpedoes,  the  Johnnies  should  dig 
them  up  or  tramp  on  and  explode  them.  After 
we  had  marched  some  distance  the  feeling  of 
dread  gradually  wore  away.  My  gallant  old  com- 
rade Cole  and  I  talked  of  the  campaign  just  ended, 
while  the  rest  of  the  guards,  as  dashing  a  lot 
of  fellows  as  there  were  in  the  Army  of  the  Ten- 
nessee, guyed  the  Johnnies  in  an  unmerciful  man- 
ner. All  of  the  latter,  witli  one  exception,  were 
scared  half  out  of  their  wits.  The  exception 
was  a  little  captain,  a  regular  gamecock.  The 
boys  would  say:  "Now,  walk  right  up,  Johnny! 
If  you  get  blowed  up  you  are  certain  of  good 
company,    for    we    will    all    go    together. "     We 


TEUE    STOEIES    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    THE    UNION. 


31 


tramped  along  the  causeway  in  the  j-ieldiag  sand 
until  we  cume  to  a  place  which  was  clear  of  trees 
lying  between  the  road  and  railroad,  the  latter 
being  some  thirty  or  fortj^  j'ards  to  our  left  as 
we  went  toward  the  city. 

Just  as  wo  entered  the  woods  beyond,  which 
fringed  the  borders  .  of  a  narrow  swamp,  some 
rebel  batteries,  the  proximity  of  which  wo  were 
entirely  ignorant  of,  opened  on  us  with  a  hot 
tire  of  shell  and  canister.  We  immediately  halted, 
and  the  compact  blue  column  closed  sullenly  upon 
us,  with  General  Sherman  at  ito  head,  on  foot.  By 
this  time  a  perfect  hurricane  of  shell  and  canister 
was  coming  down  the  road  through  the  strip  of 
wooda  between  the  road  .and  railroad.  Durin;^ 
this  fusillade  "Uncle  BUly"  stood  within  thrive 
feet  of  me.  He  wore  no  sidearms ;  none  of  his 
staff  were  Avith  him  ;  iiis  coat  was  unbuttoned  and 
flared  open  ;  he  had  the  stub  of  a  dead  cigar,  wliich 
lie  placed  and  replaced  in  his  mouth,  and  tapped  in 
his  quick,  nervous  way  with  his  fingers.  As  I 
watched  his  eyes,  which  fairly  glittered,  I  said 
to  myself,  "Well,  Uncle  JBilly,  if  one  of  those 
canister  hits  you  in  the  ribs  the  head  of  tl)e  niess 
will  be  gone,  sure." 

The  troops  had  sprc-nd  out  the  full  width  of  the 
road  wlien  a  murderous  shell  exploded  in  Company 
i,  53d  Illinois,  killing  five  and.  wounding  other 
men.  One  of  the  poor  fellows,  apparently  a  boy  of 
■eighteen  or  nineteen,  lay  at  my  feet  completely 
■eviscerated  by  the  cruel  shell,  and  with  his  left 
arm  torn  off  near  the  Fhoulder  Tlie  little  strips 
of  red  flesh  were  hangi'ig  down  and  the  red 
blood  was  dripping  from  them  like  water  from 
melting  icicles.  He  talked  as  coollj^  as  if  ho 
were  sitting  quietly  by  liis  campfire  with  no  danger 
near,  and  he  died,  lilie  tlie  glorious  liero  that  he 
was. 

A  colored  "man  and  brother"  was  trudging 
along  on  the  railroad  in  conscious  pride  of  his 
new-found  freedom,  on  the  way  to  Savannah, 
fresh  oysters  and  perliaps  some  dusky  maiden, 
when  a  shell  strucl:  the  roadbed  in  his  front 
and,  glancing  up,  took  his  head  off. 

The  troops  began  to  file  to  the  right  and  take 
position.  The  rebels  ceased  their  fire,  except  that 
they  sent  an  occasional  shell  which  went  far 
above  our  heads.  They  doubtless  concluded  that 
the  advance  was  only  a  skirmish  line  and  that 
they  could  do  more  damage  by  sending  their 
shells  farther  back.  But  the  fact  was  that  tbey 
had  been  firing  squarely  into  the  head  of  the 
column,  the  road  being  filled  with  a  solid  mass 
of  troops.  I  took  notice  that  the  Johnnies  we 
had  did  not  stand  fire  nearly  as  well  as  our  own 
boys.  The  most  of  them  started  to  run,  and 
Amos  Salmon  came  near  to  shooting  one  of  them 
down  before  he  would  halt. 

After  the  firing  had  ceased,  and  while  I  was 
chatting  with  two  comrades.  General  Sherman 
came  along  and  chatted  a  moment  with  us.  One 
of  the  boys  had  a  shovel  with  which  he  was 
scooping  up,  and  looking  at  the  sand,  said  :  "  Well, 
General,  I  reckon  we  will  have  to  dig  some  rifle- 
pits  over  there,"  pointing  toward  the  rebel  bat- 
teries, "if  those  fellows  will  let  us."  The  General 
goqd-naturedly    answered    him :    "  Well,    we    will 


not  ask  those  fellows  where  we  will  dig  rifle-pits 
We  shall  dig  them  where  we  please."  This  was 
tlie  only  instance  in  which  I  saw  Sherman  under 
fire  during  the  war,  and  I  venture  to  say  he  was 
never  in  a  warmer  place  for  a  lew  moments  at 
any  time  during  the  entire  war.  It  is  hardly 
necessary  to  add  that  "  Uncle  Billy"  "  didn't  scare 
worth   a  cent." 

The  next  day  we  took  the  road  for  Kings  Bridge 
on  the  Ogeechee  River  above  Fort  ^McAllister. 
We  were  exceedingly  hungry  It  seemed  to  me 
that  I  walked  like  a  drunken  man,  I  was  so  hungry. 
When  night  came  on  John  King  and  I  managed  ' 
to  secure  a  piece  of  beef  liver,  which  we  divided 
and  grilled  before  the  camplire,  dipping  it  into 
the  ashes  to  give  it  a  salty  taste.  I  told  John 
that  "  to  have  anything  to  eat  at  all  was  some- 
thing, and  while  this  was  about  the  hardest  meal 
I  ever  had  in  nearly  four  years'  service,  yet  it 
was  a  great  sight  harder  on  the  steer  which 
furnislied  the  liver."  The  next  day  we  arrived 
at  our  destination,  not  having  had  breakfast  or 
dinner.  On  the  way  Joe  Ware  and  myself 
found  a  cavalryman  on  guard  by  the  roadside 
over  three  or  four  bushels  of  shelled  corn.  We 
tried  to  beg  or  buy  a  little  but  could  do  neither. 
The  guard  said  that  if  the  corn  were  his  own 
to  dispose  of  he  would  have  given  'us  some. 
Farther  along  we  ran  against  a  potato  specu- 
lator. Joe  was  the  banker  of  our  party,  he  having 
one  dollar,  and  he  bought  four  little  potatoes  with 
it,  each  one  about  six  inches  long  and  as  big 
round  as  an  ordinary  man's  thumb.  These  we 
ate,  peelings,  dirt  and  all  as  we  tramped  along. 
I  hope  that  speculator  will  he  allowed  to  go  to 
heaven  for  a  little  whUe,  lor  Joe  and  I  want 
to  point  him  out  to  the  boys  as  the  man 
who  charged  two  hungry  comrades  a  dollar 
for  four  little  Confederate  sweet  potatoes.  Joe 
and  I  liope  that  old  Saint  Peter  will  let  us  two 
slip  in  anyhow  for  what  we  did  for  the  old  flag. 

So  far  as  I  know,  the  principal  incident  referred 
to  above  is  the  only  one  of  the  kind  during  the 
war.  Generals  Grant  and  Sherman  both  speak 
of  it  in  their  memoirs.  General  Grant  seems  to 
have  fallen  into  error  in  believing  that  Sherman 
sent  the  whole  body  of  rebel  prisoners  ahead  of 
the  column  by  theniselvee;  and  General  Sherman 
has  been  severely  criticised  on  that  supposition. 
But  we  had  only  about  100  prisoners  with  tlie 
17th  Corpsj  and  of  this  number  only  six:  were 
made  to  take  this  disagreeable*  tramp  at  the  head 
of  the  column.  Tliey  were  accompanied  by  seven 
l-luecoats,  making  thirteen  in  all  in  the  stiuad. 
These  are  the  plain  facts  in  the  case.  While  we 
did  not  discover  any  more  torpedoes,  we  took  our 
chances  of  that,  without  tlie  faintest  hope  of  being 
able  to  defend  ourselves  in  any  manner  against 
harm  should  we  explode  one.  It  was  as  cold- 
blooded an  expedition  as  any  one  was  ever  called 
upon  to  take  part  in  durmg  thf^  entire  war,  great 
as  it  was. 

My  gallant  old  comrad'*  Sergeant  Cole  and 
I  always  have  a  chat  about  this  incident  when 
we  meet.  The  beven  bluecoats  in  tlie  squad  were  aU 
members  of  Companies  A  and  B,  41st  Illinois  Vet- 
eran Battalion,  there  being  at  that  time  only  enough 
of  flie  regiment  left  to  make  two  companies.  We 
were  all  farmer    boys,   just  creeping  out  of  our 


32 


LIBEAEY    OF    lEIBUNE    EXTEAS. 


'teens,    although   ^re    were    "veterans"    of   nearly 

four  years'   service  at   the    from,  with    that,    to 

me,   incomparable   body    of   troops,   the   Army   of 

the  lenuessee.     It  is  stating  the  ca&e  mildly  when 

I  Bay  I  greatlj-  pj-efer  to  sit  here  in  my  bachelor 

quarters  and   v.-nte  about  it  rather  than  to  take 

Buch   another   Irannj.     It  is  seldom  even  in  sucli 

a  long  war,  with  constant  f.ghting,  that  one  lias 

the  opportunity  to  volunteer   under  the  eye  and 

personal  su^-ervision  of  such  a  leader  as  General 

Sherman,  and  perform  such  a  service.     Sometimes 

when  I  read  about  the  tellows  who  were  awarded 

medals  for  meritorious  acts    I  think  that  some  of 

them    would    be    without    the    medals    to-day     if 

they  had   been   called   upon  to  go   ahead  of  tlie 

column  to   hnd,  tramp  on  and   explode  torpedoes 

in  order  to  save  the  troops.     At  tliis  date,  in  my 

more  mature  jears,  it  seems  to  me  that  I  would 

shrink  from  tlie  porformance  ol  such  a  duty  again. 

At  times,  even  whr-n  1  iim  v(>ry  busy  at  work,  the 

risk   we   ran    iiusties   fjirough    my   mind,      and    I 

stop  my  work  instantly  and  look  around  befoi'e 

I  can  remember  where  I  am.     Well,  I  have  been 

aeked  what  I  would   take   as  an   inducement  to 

make  such  another  tramp.     A  deed  of  my  native 

State,   the   Avhole   State,   the   grand    old    State   of 

Illinois,  would  not  be  the  slifrhtest  temptation.— 

Joseph    Eay,    late    Co.    A,    4l9t    111.    Vols.,    First 

Brigade,   Fourth  Division,   17th  A.   C. 


FOUR  DOLLARS  A  llOSTH,  NOW, 


ONE   IVIAX'S   WAR   HISTOEY. 


TOWN  CLOCK  OF  VICKSBILRG. 

Tlie  Court  House  of  Vicksburg  stood  on  nigh 
ground  in  the  centre  of  the  citg-.  It  was  sur- 
mounted by  a  tall  tower,  and  near  the  top  of  the 
toAver  was  placed  a  large  white  faced  clock,  the 
four  white  faces  looking  toward  the  four  points 
of  the  compass.  Ihe  black  figures  indicating  the 
hour  of  the  day  and  the  hands  could  be  ."^een 
miles  away  with  the.  aid  of  field  glasses. 

During  the  long  weary  months  of  the  siege  of 
Vicksburg  when  the  heavy  guns  of  the  Union 
Army  poured  in  hot  shot  and  shell  night  and  day, 
many  a  skilled  gunner  trained  his  gun  at  one  of 
the  whitie  faces  of  that  clock.  Shot  and  shell  came 
from  every  quarter,  but  the  clock  kept  time  for 
both  armies  unscathed.  The  Confederate  flag 
staflt'  was  cut  tio  pieces  above  it;  the  tower  above 
and  below  was  riddled  with  flying  missUes,  but 
the  clock  remained  untouched,  and  ticked  off  mo- 
ment by  moment,  hour  by  hour  the  exact  time,  un- 
til the  last  gun  was  fired,  and  the  last  wail  of  agony 
was  hushed  in  the  soleum  ceremonies  of  the  liis- 
toric  surrender.  Even  lihen  the  old  clock  went 
on  unmoved,  and  told  time  with  resonant  tongue 
as  though  nothing  had  happened. 

It  was  a  matter  of  surprise  to  artillery  men  that 
they  had  not  been  able  to  send  a  ball  througu 
one  or  the  other  of  the  four  gi-eat  white  facey  of 
the  clock  at  Vicksburg.  After  the  surrender  an 
old  colored  ilethodist  preacher  explained  it  to  the 
satisfaction  of  many.  He  said,  speaking  of  the 
fall  of  their  great  brick  church  : 

"  You  see,  we  ust  to  go  dar  to  pray,  and  we  alters 
prayed  tor  liberty  an  dat  de  Yanks  would  git  de 
A-ictory,  an  so  to  stop  de  praj-en  dey  jus  tore  don 
de  church."' 

"  -And  that  stopped  your  praying  ?" 

"  Oh,  no,  missus,  dat  couldn't  stop  our  prayln*. 
We  just  'greed  to  pray  whenever  de  clock  struck 
12,  night  or  day.  And  ohj  missus,  how  we  did 
pray  !•' 

"The  Union  men  tried  very  hard  to  hit  that 
clock,  but  somehow  they  didn't  happen  to  strike 
it." 

The  old  man's  face  was  radiant.  The  joy  oB 
his  heart  was  shining  through  the  black  skin,  as  he 
swayed  and  slapped  his  hands.  "  Oh,  honey,  dar's 
no  happen  about  dat.  De  good  Lor'  he  jus'  put  his 
han'  over  it,  and  kep'  it  goin'  an'  goin',  for  us  poor 
color  fokes  to  pray  by." 

What  perfect  trust  1  It  is  easier  to  accept  the 
theory  of  the  old  colored  preacher  than  to  explain 
Avhy  it  was  that  the  army  with  a  cordon  of  guns 
pointing  toward  that  clock  did  not  reach  the  clock 
or  stop  the  reglilar  swing  of  its  pendulum,  or  the 
merry  chimes  of  its  bell. 


THE    MULES    NEARLY    ATE    UP    THE    WAGONS- 
FIGHTING     PRICE    IN     THE     SOUTHWEST 
—A  VETERAN'S  MODEST  QUESTION 
AS      TO     PENSIONS. 

When  the  first  call  came  for  75,000  men  Charles 
Atkinson  proceeded  instantly  to  the  work  of  en- 
listment. In  a  few  days  he  had  raised  a  company, 
with  Thomas  Harvey  as  captain,  afterward  Ueu- 
tenant-colonel  of  the  84th  Illinois.  Tills  com- 
pany was  in  excess  of  the  quota  of  Illinois,  and 
could  not  be  mustered.  When  the  call  came  for 
300,000  men,  the  company  was  accepted  and  placed 
in  the   28th  Illinois. 

Atkinson  was  a  Methodist  pastor  at  Vermont,  111. 
He  did  not  take  a  military  position  until  the  close 
of  his  pastoral  year,  when,  having  mounted  and 
equipped  his  only  son  capable  of  military  duty 
(who    enlisted   in    Company   L,    7th   Illinois   Cav- 
alry),   in    a   few   days  he  himself   enlisted    as  a 
private  in  the  same  company,  leaving  his  other 
son,   a  cripple,   in  care  of  his  family.     At  Bird's 
Point,  Mo.,  he  secured  a  chest  of  tools,  with  which 
he  put  the  regimental  train  in  efficient  state.     The 
mules  had  in   the  absence  of  hay  eaten   up  the 
wagon  bodies.     WTien  a  move  was  made  for  New- 
Madrid    the  train  was  in   perfect  running  order. 
Passing  down  the  Mississippi    to  Pleasant  Point, 
honored   en   route  with   an   artillery  salute   from 
a  rebel  battery  on  the  Kentucky  side,  his  next 
move  after  the  battle  of  Shiloh  was  up  Tennessee 
River    to  Pittsburg  I;anding  ;  thence   to  camp  be- 
fore  Corinth.     He   hatl    divested   himself   of   the 
distinction  of  an  artisan,  but  was  again  detached 
for   the   necessary  repairs,   which   corduroj''   roads 
and   the  mules  made  urgent.       The   next  move- 
ment       found        camp       at       Jacinto,        Miss., 
with  the  heat  of  a  June  sun  inviting  him  to  the 
shade ;    but    the    demand    of    the    quartermsister 
again   forced    him,    as   an    absolute   necessity,    to 
put  the  wagon   train  in  order  for  transportation 
of  forage  and  stores  from  the  Tennessee  Elver.   Af- 
ter   this    came    the    advance    to    Alabama.     The 
7th  Illinois  cavalry  was  stationed  at  Cane  Creek,  on 
the  MobUe  and   Ohio   Eailroad     in   the  midst  of 
cornfields,    which    supplied    the  mules    and    gave 
considerable    rest    to    the    wagons.     The    retreat 
from  Alabama  soon  terminated   this  repose.     We 
tnarchecl  to  luka,  where  we  were  prevented  from 
staying   more    than   a    day   by    the   absolute    re- 
quirements   of    General    Price,    who    desired    the 
place  for  his  own  convenience.     In  obedience  to 
necessity     we    pushed    for    Corinth,    whence    an- 
other   necessity    turned    ug    back    again,    on    the 
night    of    the    same    day.     At    Burnsville.    again 
in  camp,  the  foraging  process  was  reinstated,  but 
the    interruption    of    succulent    feed    had    been 
hard    on   the   wagons   and   called   for   the   use    of 
the  tool-chest  for  a  few  days.     This  was  suddenly 
terminated   by   the  instigation   o£   General  Price, 
who   appeared   at   our  picket  lines.    "  Boots   and 
saddles!"  was  the  bugle  note,  and  the  quondam 
artisan  was  again  mounted  as  No.  1  "  right  ofuide'* 


TRUE    STOEIES    OF    THE    WAE    FOR    THE    HIsTON. 


33 


at  the  head  of  the  column  composed  of  six  com- 
panios  7th  Illinois  cavalry,  11th  :Missouri  and  26th 
Illinois        Infantry,        three        pieces        of    artil- 
lery  and   Birge's  battalion  of  sharpshooters.     On 
reaching    the    picket    line     the    right   guide    and 
his  comrade  were  advanced   to   the  vidette  post, 
from    which  "a    movement    was    inmiediately    de- 
tected.    The  comrade  docli  red  it  "Johnnies,"  and 
brought    his    carbine    into    action,    while    "  right 
guicfe''   plied   his  spurs    and  reached   company  in 
time  to  order   "About,   face!"     "Forward!"   was 
the     next     order,     and      with     cavalry    in    line, 
Birge's  sharpshooters   clearing  the  front,    we  ad- 
jvanced     throug?h     bush    and     brake      into     opeP- 
ground,  with   luka  in  sight.     A  few  shells   from 
the  guns  distinguished  the  enemy    by  a  cloud  of 
dust    from    their    cover.      Here    Colonel    Mower, 
commaJ!ding     the     brig-ade,      ordered      a      sabre 
charge.        Our        blades        glittered        in        the 
sun   until   we   reached    the   ridge   in    front   of  us 
from   whicli    the    Confederates   had   modestly   re- 
tired. We  reached  the  cover  of  the  timber.  At  this 
point  Company  L  was  ordered  to  r.  connoitre  the 
road  to  luka,  and  w-hcn  the  lieutenant  in  command 
became  cautious,  "right  guide"    was  directed  to 
cross  a  field  and  examine  a  cabin  in  the  opposite 
corner.       With  Blmcher  as  his  trusting  power  he 
galloped   forward,   disdaining  the  interruption  of 
fences,  which  only  gave  an  opportunity  for  Blu- 
cher's  agility,  and  he  found  an  empty  cabin,  but 
decided  that   the   well-worn   roaxi    from   lulca   to 
Eastport    signified   a   military   presence.     Ho  re- 
ported "  luka  occupied  in  force,"  and  received  the 
hooting  of  the  entire  company,  which  was  checked, 
however,  by  a  light  volley  froin  the  front  and  an 
impression  on  the  back  of  one  of  the  boys  which 
indicated     buckshot,     the     ball     having     carried 
higher.     Influenced  by  this  expression  of  opinion 
from  the  front    the  lieutenant  showed  us  how  to 
retreat  by  galloping  off.     When  he  had  put  the 
safety  of  distance  behind  him    he  halted  for  an 
ob-'ervation,   and   saw   an   officer  in  gray   making 
similar    observations   from    near    the   same   cabin 
which  had  .just  been  explored.     Tliis  indicated  the 
propriety   of   reporting   back   to    our   commander. 
Colonel    Mower   was    found    making   observations 
from  tlie  cover  of  a  rail  pile.     The  day  was  now 
advanced  and  dinner  would  have  been  acccpta'^le. 
Believing  that  in  luka  there  would  be  found  culi- 
nary supplies,  the  boys  vigorously  drclared,  "luka 
is  empty.     Take  us  into  luka."      But   from  Elu- 
cher's  saddle  came  the  contradiction.  "They  are 
t^ere  in  force,  or  what  is  left  are  all  buglers," 
because  when  the  little  volley  which  started  our 
lieutenant  was  heard,   bugles  were  blown   along 
the  cover  of  the  timber.     And,  as  learned  after- 
wa.rd,    5,000    Confederates   were   then   in   saddle. 
Colonel  Mower  did  not  go  on  to  luka,  but  tried 
strategy.     In  the  shade  of  the  evening,  while  a 
battalion  of  cavalry  made  a  feint  of  a  sabre  charge 
from  the  right,  the  whole  front  of  the  woods  be- 
hind was  lighted  with  fires  to  indicate  an  encamp- 
ment.    When  the  tliick  brush  and  the  night,  with 
the  emphasis  of  a  volley  in  front  of  ua,  induced  the 
return  of  the   gallant  battalion,    the  absence   of 
Colonel  Mower    on  his  way   back  to  Bumsville 
decided  our  return.     To  break  tJie  silence  of  the 


night  march  we  had   the  doleful  notes  of  a  rail- 
road engine  which  the  enemy  had  captured   mid- 
way   between    Burnsville    and    luka ;    they    had 
built  under  it  its  last  fires,  whicli  made  the  Whistle 
blow    continuously    till    its    voice    died    away    to 
silence.     The  next  day  witnessed  the  investment 
of  luka,  while  no   notice  is  taken  of  him  who 
had  made  the  careful  reconnoissance    and  tlie  cor- 
rect report.      He   had   done   his  duty.     Price  Avas 
now  in  the  trap,  with  gunboats  on  the  Tennessee 
in  the  rear,  and  Grant  and  Rosecrans  in  the  front- 
Out  of  all   this,   however,   the  wily   Confederate 
made   his   way   after   all.     History    has   reported 
the   result.      But     how    did    he   get   through    our 
lines ;    for    really    there  was  no   battle   of  luka  ? 
It  is  stated   that  a  feeble   pursuit  of  Price  was 
made.     When    the    lines    Avere    closed    on    luka 
Colonel  IMower  commanded  the  brigade  composed 
of    the    26th    Illinois,     the    11th    Missouri    and 
the    6th   Ohio    Battery.     From    an   officer    of   the 
26th  Illinois  I   have  it  that   Colonel  Mower  lay 
drunk  in  his  tent,  the  brigade  at  rest,  and  tho 
artillery  with  horses  detached.     I  have  this  from 
one   of   ite  men.     A  bluff  covered   one   side,   and 
along  this  Price  advanced  until  he  got  his  artillery 
in  range  of  the  Ohio  battery.     He  shot  down  the 
Ohio  horses,   spiked   his  own   guns,  and   attached 
the    teams  to  the  Ohio   battery,   with  whicli    he 
went  off    while  Mower  was  waking  up,  and,  for- 
getful   of    his    brigade,    gave    the    tactical    om- 
mand    ( ?j,   "Eleventh   aMissouri,   pitch   in!"     Tlio 
faithful  men  did  "pitch  in"  at  the  word  of  their 
commander ;  but  when  the  Major  in  command  got 
to    horse   he   hastily   rescued    his   regiment    from 
unprotected  slaughter   and  Price's  surprise.     When 
the  Major  came  back  Mower  met  him  and  ordered 
him   under   arrest,   to  which   the  response   came: 
"You  dry  up,   or  I  will  put  you  under  an  arrest 
from  which  you  will  never  obtain  release."     And 
this  came  from  behind  tho  Major's  pistol.     Mower 
went  to  his  tent. 

It  is  with  regret  for  the  man  who  was  other- 
wise capable  of  the  position  he  occupied  that 
this  mention  is  made. 

Price's  intentions!  as  to  Coxintli  were  evident. 
While  he  was  in  column  we  were  scattered  around 
the  country:  and  in  the  race  we  had  hardly  got 
into  occupation  before  Price's  guns  began  to  pour 
their  thunder  on  the  key  of  the  South.  Why  did 
he  not  succeed  in  capturing  Corintji?  To  answer 
this  the  circumstances  have  to  be  considered.  A 
Louisiana  regiment  proffered  their  service  for  the 
assault :  but  when  the  Idght  of  day  revealed  the 
teeth  of  the  fortification,  their  courage  failed 
them.  Had  they  held  steadfast  Corinth  would 
doubtless  have  changed  commanders  that  day.  To 
supply  their  place  and  effect  Price's  purpose,  two 
regiments  from  Texas  were  drafted  for  the  work. 
The  indispensable  whiskey  was  applied  "  to 
geti  their  courage  to  the  sticking  point."  On  onr 
f=ide  deteimination  was  working  in  a  seientifio  man- 
ner. And,  with  the  aid  of  hay  bales,  a  flank  bat- 
tery was  erected  to  cover  the  face  af  Fort  Robinet. 
When  the  fated  moment  came,  the  foe,  eight  deep, 
walked  into  the  trench,  and  the  flank  UJittcry, 
with  grape  and  canister,  laid  tTiem  low  as  grass 
in  swath  from  tlie  mower's  scythe.     Not  a  man 


34 


LIBE.UJY    OF    TEIBUNE    EXTRAS. 


passed  the  rampart  except  the  oflficer  who  led  the 
assault,  and  he  was  infroduced  unceremoniously  by 
the  hair  of  the  head.  One  of  our  men  reached 
over  and  caught  the  reckless  leader.  I  did  not 
witiness  the  carnage,  and  I  am  thankful  that  I  wa^ 
spared  the  sight.  It  was  sufficient  to  see  the 
ghastly  picture  which  the  photographic  camera 
gathered  of  that  pUe  of  the  carnage  of  war. 

While  with  breatJiless  anxiety  the  Union  force 
was  waiting  the  fearful  shock  which  we  have  just 
related,    and    the     cavalry    waa     massed    in    a 
hollow,      the      bugle      gave      "Officers'     Call," 
and     hasitily      the      Union      officers      went      to 
their    chief.     Tliat    brief    interview    showed    the 
doubt  of  General  Eosecrans  as  to  the  event  of 
the  day.     If  it  had  T'ot  been  for  the  storm    of 
iron    hail    which    fell    from    that    hurried    hay 
pile,  the  story  of  the  Eebellion  would  have  been 
told  differently  in  the  Southwest.     An  order  now 
came   sending  a   cavalry  battalion  to   the  cross- 
roads   on    the    east,    to    Kossuth;    and    Company 
L.  7th  Iin^^ois,  was  soon  beyond  the  line  of  the 
storm  of  battle.     It  was  a  most  important  posi- 
tion,   but    for    the    hour    a    quiet    place.     The 
soldiers    found    secreted    a    pen    of    corn,    which 
was  very  acceptable  to  tlie  horses  after  a  twelve- 
mile  march  in  the  night  previous.     The  men  took 
breakfast   and    dinner.     Scarcely   was    this    done 
when  "  crack,  crack,"  we^t  the  carbines  on  the 
picket  line.     A  moment,  and  we  are  in  the  sad- 
dle, an"a  retired  under  cover  of  a  ridge,  while  the 
captain    in    command,    who    could    not    wield    a 
pen,    perhaps,   with   skill,    but   could    give   forci- 
ble expression  verbally  to  what  was  on  his  mind, 
as  he  used  to  do  when  he  guided  his  stages    with 
the   United    States   Mail    from    Galena,    rode    out 
in  full  view   on   the    crest   of   the   ridge.     Here 
he    was    saluted    with    the    firing    of    revolvers, 
for  Price  a/nd   his  staff  were   seeking  a  way  of 
retreat   to   the   Hatchie   Ford,    as   the   most   con- 
venient route.  In  response  to  these  small  arms,  the 
captain    demanded    "that    they    dry    that    up,'' 
and   in  his    confidence    declared    "  if  that  is   the 
game  you  are   at,   we  will   give  you   enough   of 
it,  for  we  are  here  in  force."     Tlie  question  was 
heard,  "  Who  are  you  ?"  The  answer  came,  "  Jack- 
son's   cavalry,    by ! "    emphasized    by  breech- 
loading    carbines.     Tliis     pebble     in     the     brook 
changed  the  current  of  Price's  retreat,  and  sent 
him    to    the   bridge,    where    he    had    to    contend 
all  the  next  day  with  our  reinforcements  for  a 
passage.     We    had    the    shorte.st   road,    however, 
and  during  the  same  day  had  artillery  ready,  which 
told  heavily  on  the  rear  of  Price's  column. 

Having  made  a  final  disposition  of  Price  in  the 
South,  we  began  to  think  of  a  warmer  place  for 
the  winter.  We  passed  through  Holl.y  Springs 
to  look  at  AbbeA^ille,  a  fearful  fortification  in  de- 
fence of  the  passage  of  the  Hatchie.  A  few  days 
were  spent  in  camp  in  this  neighborhood,  and 
foraging  was  again  the  order.  The  condition  of 
the  wagon  train  had  not  improved,  and  the  work 
of  repair  had  to  be  repeated.  A  ginhouse  was 
relieved  of  a  lot  of  its  flooring,  and  the  black- 
smith shop  of  the  plantation  supplied  a  bellows. 
We  had  six  portable  forges,  but  no  coal,  and 
could  not  raise  a  heat  with  the  fuel  we  extempo- 


rized, but  with  this  one  bellows  we  could  do 
more  than  with  all  the  forges.  AVliile  recon- 
uoitering  before  Abbeville  one  of  our  men  said 
to  our  ]\Iajor :  "  I  don't  believe  there  is  a  soul 
left  in  that  fort" ;  although  the  dark  features 
indicated  great  guns,  and  loud  reports  from  them 
warned  us  not  to  intrude  on  the  heights  across 
the  river.  He  proposed  to  rislc  the  investiga- 
tion and  cross  the  river.  The  bridge  had  been 
burned,  and  ho  swam  his  horse  over.  With  the 
spurs  of  anxiety  urging  him,  and  the  rowels 
gi^^Ilg  speed  to  Ms  horse,  in  a  little  wliile  the 
battlements  of  Abbeville  displayed  a  man  on 
horseback  waving  his  hat,  and  the  signal  testi- 
fied the  correctness  of  his  opinion.  In  answer  a  shout 
of  delight  was  heard.  The  quiet  of  camp  was 
changed  to  the  excitement  of  the  march. 

Caution  was  observed  in  the  movement  into  the 
vei-y  heart  of  the  Confedracy,  a<nd  a  brigade  was 
sent  in  advance,  in  command  of  Colonel  Dickey,  of 
the  4th  Illinois  Cavalry,  with    the  2d  Iowa  and 
7th  Illinois  cavalry  at  Coffeyville.  As  evening  waa 
falling  a  train  on  the  Mississippi  Eailroad  came 
dashing  up  from  Grenada,  and  poured  out  a  flood 
of  troops,  covering  flanks,  front  and  rear.     Colo- 
nel Dickey   said   to    Colonel   Hateh,    of   the    2nd 
Iowa:     "I   must   surrender,"   and   here's   the   re- 
ply :     "  I  will   not  surrender  my   regiment,   and 
I  can  take  out  the  brigade."     The  command  was 
turned   over   to   him,    and   he    dashed    along   the 
lines  of  his  regiment.     He  ordered,  "Dismount I" 
and  "Advance  to  cover!''  and  "Eeserve  your  fije 
till    3''ou    find    the    position   in    the   front    of   the 
enemy,  by  their  fire'';  then,  "Fire  at  wUl."     To 
the  other  regiments  he  gave  the  order,   "Brealc 
ranks  and  retreat  I"     In  the  cover  of  the  night 
the  incessant  discharge  of  the  cylinder  carbines 
was  heard,  and  the  tempest  of  horse  resounded; 
and  they   left   the   way   open   for  the  successful 
retreat    of    the    beleagured    brigade,    which    did 
not  halt  for  twenty  miles.     The  Confederacy  was 
determined  to  hold,  as  an  important  position,  the 
fort   we  had   attempted.     The   next  thing  beins 
to  occupy  winter  quarters  and  await  events,  we 
are   found    facing   North   again,    and   a   Sabbath 
morning    found    us    pulling    up    stakes    for    the 
last    move    to    the    Hatchie.     The    rain    of    the 
previous  night  had  made  the  ground  yielding,  and 
there  was  more  discord   than  devotion  in  camp 
when   every   teamster   refused   to   allow   another 
ounce  to  his  burden.     One  wagon  remained  de- 
votional.       It    was    loaded    with    six    dark    cy- 
linders, whose  peace  had  never  been  disturbed  since 
the  confiscated  bellows  had  come  to  camp.  The  train 
had  to  be  kept  moving,  and  the  day  sacred,  and 
the  confusion   was   great.     The   action   struck   a 
balance,   in  favor   of   the  Confederacy,   and   left 
those  six  forges   behind.     He   heard,   once    after 
tjhis,  and  only  once,  an  inquiry,  "What  was  the 
authority  by  which  those  forges  were  abandoned  ? " 
The  reply  was,  "By  common  consent."       If  the 
Confederacy  treat^ed  them  with  any  more  respect 
than  they  obtained  from  the  United  States,  they 
are  entirely  welcome,  for  we  lost  nothing  by  the 
exchange. 

A  few  more  zigzag  motions.       Holly  Springs 
was  left  behind  and  La  Grange,  Tenn.,  found  lu 


TRUE    STORIES    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    THE    UNION. 


35 


in  winter  quarters.  The  "Extra  Duty,''  of 
"  Wagonmaker"  for  the  7th  Ilhnois  Cavalry, 
continued  all  winter  and  iuto  the  spring,  until 
the  move  was  made  for  Baton  Rouge  by  Co,lonel 
Grierson.  At  this  period  an  entire  change  o£  my 
mihtary  history  came.  I  was  exposed  tio  rain  and 
^%'ant  of  foodi;  was  attacked  with  chilis,  then 
svith  sciatica  and  afterward  with  other  troubles. 
[  broke  down  and  wag  sent  to  a  hospital  in  Mem- 
phis, then  to  Fort  Pickering,  then  to  St.  Louia 
md  finally  to  Washington,  D.  C.  During  this 
time,  I  was  enrolled  in  the  1st  Missouri  Veterans, 
is  chaplain.  My  debihty  increasing,  I  applied 
to  Secretary  Stanton  for  discharge,  and  it  was 
mmediately  ordered,  but,  the  surgeon  would  not 
et  me  go.  Secretary  Stanton  heard  of  it  later 
md  was  angrj',  and  peremptorily  ordered  my  dis- 
sharge  and  a  reprimand  of  the  surgeon. 

I  receive  a  pension  of  §4  a  month,  am  past  the 
ige  of  sevent]y,  and  my  condition  has  deprived 
ne  of  all  means  of  obtaining  a  liveliliood,  while 
'.  require  special  care  on  account  of  my  disea;ses. 
;  did  my  share,  to,  the  best  of  my  abilities,  to 
lave  the  Union.  My  infirmities  are  the  result 
)f  exposure  in  the  army.  Wliat  is  this  I  hear 
ibout  "  paj'ing  too  much  for  pensions, "  and  the 
)ensioners  being   "  frauds  ? "  C.   A. 


MEMORIES  lOF  THE    24TH  IOWA. 


[NCIDENTS   OF  THE  RED   KIVEB,  CAMPAIGN   AND 
AJSl  EXCITING  AFFAIR  IN  THE  WOODS. 

Chadron,  Neb.,  Dec.  3.— I  enlisted  in  Co.  I,  24th 
[owa  Inf.,  at  MaquoketaJ  August  11,  1862.  The 
regiment  was  organized  as  a  temperance  organiza- 
tion. Seven  out  of  our  ten  captains  were  preach- 
ers and  the  colonel  was  an  elder  in  the  Methodist 
:i:hurch.  I  was  mustered  in  as  a  private  August 
5^.  October  20  we  embarked  on  trangrports  and 
itarted  for  the  sunny  South,  going  into  winter 
luarters  at  Helena,  Ark.  During  the  winter  of 
L 862-63  we  made  what  was  known  as  the  Cold- 
(vater  a»nd  the  White  River  expeditions. 

In  the  spring  of  »63  we  were  assigned  to  the 
loth  Axmy  Corps,  commanded  by  General  Mc- 
Illernand,  and  joined  the  great  and  victorious 
iri»y  under  Grant  which^  on  July  4,  1863,  broke 
bhelast  iron  band  which  held  the  Confederacy  to- 
gether. By  the  capture  of  that  great  etronghold, 
Vicksburg,  the  Confederacy  was  completely,  to 
ill  intents  and  purposes,  severed  in  twain.  The 
Snal  triumph  of  the  Union  Army  was  only  a  matter 
)f  time. 

After  the  capture  of  Vicksburg  the  13th  Corps 
(vaa  disbanded  and  the  larger  portion  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  department  of  Trans-Mississippi,  be- 
ng  placed  under  the  command  of  G^eneral  N.  P. 
Banks,  who  was  then  making  preparations  for  the 
Red  River  campaign.  These  preparations  occu- 
pied the  greater  portion  of  the  winter  of  1863-64. 
3nce  ho  made  a  sort  of  a  raid  up  tlie  Bayou  Teche 
18  far  as  Opelousas,  which  was  known  as  the  Ope- 
lousas  campaign.  On  our  way  back  we  were  at- 
tacked in  the  rear  by  a  rebel  force  under  General 
jreen,  and  had  a  lively  time  for  about  two  hours. 
But  I  think  Green  was  not  quite  so  green  when  we 


were  through  with  him  as  he  was  when  he  made 
the  attack. 

Early  in  the  spring  of  1864  Banks's  whole  army* 
with  a  great  flourish  of  military  style  and  military 
discipline,  started  on  the  Red  River  campaign,  well 
equipped  with  everything  necessary  for  a  success- 
ful foray  into  a  hostile  country.  The  plan  was  for 
one  division  to  go  around  by  the  Gulf  of  Alexico  to 
Matamoras ;  a  large  fleet  of  transports  to  go  up  the 
Red  River,  preceded  by  the  gunboats  and  monitors ; 
and  the  main  army  to  march  overland.  The  fleet 
was  to  meet  us  at  Natchitoches,  La.J  and  the  expe- 
dition around  by  the  Gulf  was  to  meet  us  at  some 
point  on  the  Sabine  River  in  Texas. 

For  about  the  first  five  or  six  days'  march  it  waa 
rain,  mud  and  water  to  wade  through.  Our 
cavalry  marched  well  in  the  advance  and  kept  the 
mud  well  stirred  up  for  us.  One  niglit,  as  we  were 
going  into  camp,  after  marching  all  day  in  a  steady 
rain,  our  division  commander!  General  Cameron, 
riding  along  the  line  of  our  camp,  was  heard  to  tell 
his  orderly  to  go  and  tell  the  quartermaster  that  it 
would  take  six  barrels  of  whiskey  to  get  the  Sec- 
ond Division  out  of  there.  Judging  from  the  noise 
there  was  in  camp  in  an  hour  from  that  time  I 
should  say  they  must  have  received  the  whiskey. 

One  morning^  when  we  were  within  about 
twenty-two  miles  of  Natchitoches,  a  cavalrjTnan 
came  flying  back  from  the  front  with  the  news  that 
the  enemy  were  in  full  force  at  Natchitoches  and 
tjie  cavaky  wanted  support.  Immediately  our  di- 
vision was  ordered  forward  at  a  double-quick.  We 
went  on  a  double-quick  most  of  the  way  to  Natchi- 
toches. When  we  came  in  sight  of  the  town  from 
the  east  the  rebels  went  out  on  the  west.  We 
took  possession  of  the  town  without  firing  a  gun. 

There  was  a  man  in  our  company,  Cjtus  McKeei/ 
who,  though  not  especially  intellectual,  was  as 
good  a  soldier  as  ever  carried  a  musket  and  brave 
to  rashness.  But  he  was  unfortunately  afflicted  in 
such  a  way  as  to  make  him  sick  for  a  day  or  two 
after  any  violent  exercise,  such  as  a  forced 
inarch.  As  usual,  after  our  arrival'  he  was  on  the 
sick  list  for  a  day  or  two.  On  the  second  day 
McKee,  feeling  a  little  better,  craved  better  fare 
than  an  army  ration.  He  had  always  carried  a 
large  navy-size  revolver  in  addition  to  other  equip- 
ments, but  on  this  occasion,  feeling  a  little  weak, 
he  did  not  put  on  his  revolver.  He  started  out  to 
forage  something  to  eat,  either  chickens,  eggs,  but- 
ter or  something  of  the  kind.  He  was  well  fcnowa 
and  hardly  ever  had  any  difficulty  in  passing  out- 
side the  picket  line  after  promising  to  divide  upon 
his  return.  On  the  way  out  he  fell  in  with  two 
boys  from  an  Ohio  regiment,  the  48th,  I  believe, 
who  were  on  the  same  errand  as  himself.  About 
three  miles  from  camp  they  came  to  a  plantation 
which  seemed  to  be  well  stocked.  Going  to  the 
house  they  found  nobody  except  a  middle-aged 
darky  woman  and  some  half-breed  children.  The 
woman  refused  to  sell  them  anything,  but  the 
boys  made  up  their  minds  that  the  nroprietor  of 
the  place  was  either  bushwhacking  or  in  the  South- 
ern Army  and  the.y  concluded  to  help  themselves. 
So,  going  out  to  the  bam,  they  began  to  catch 
chickens.  McKee  climbed  up  in  the  hayloft  to 
look  for  eggs,  when    all  at  once,  as  though  they 


36 


LUiEABY    OF    lEIBUNE    EXTRAS. 


had  risen  out  of  the  ground,  three  men  appeared 
on  the  scene  with  yuna  and  demanded  the  sur- 
render of  the  two  men  on  the  ground.  They  were 
caught  and  they  surrendered.  McKee,  hearing 
the  noise,  came  to  the  edge  of  the  loft  and  peeped 
over,  when  the  bushwhackers  saw  liim  and  ordered 
him  to  come  down.  He  had  no  revolver  and  was 
obliged  to  come.  The  bushwhackers  tied  their 
hands  behind  them,  ran  a  rope  through  and  tied 
them  all  together ;  and,  one  of  them  taking  the 
lead  with  the  other  two  behind  J  they  started  off  in 
a  southwestern  direction  from  the  town  into  heavy 
pine  timber.  On  the  way  IVIcKee  asked  them  what 
they  intended  to  do  with  him.  They  told  him  he 
would  find  out  probably  sooner  than  he  wanted  to. 
"Well,''  says  McKee,  "you  can't  scare  me,  what^ 
ever  you  do ;  but  if  you  intend  to  shoot  us  there 
is  no  reed  of  going  so  far,  and  I  want  you  to  un- 
derstand I  am  not  going  much  farther.''  "  At 
any  rate,"  they  replied,  "you  had  better  keep  your 
mouth  shet."     McKee  replied  that  he  would  talk 

when  lie  pleased  for  all  of  any  d d  rebel,  and 

that  they  could  not  stop  him  unless  they  killed 
him. 

At  a  place  in  the  woods  where  the  timber  was 
80  thick  that  the  rays  of  the  sun  could  not  pene- 
trate, they  halted,  and  two  of  the  bushwhackers 
retired  to  a  distance,  so  as  to  be  out  of  earshot, 
and  seemed  to  be  holding  a  council.  They  had  a 
long  rope  in  their  hands  and  seemed  to  be  talking 
about  it.  McKee  was  meanwhile  working  with 
all  his  might  to  get  the  rope  off  his  hands.  In 
fact  he  had  the  rope  off  one  hand  and  had  the  rope 
that  held  them  together  untied.  He  had  begun  to 
pull  it  out  when  the  man  guarding  them  cocked 
his  gun,  placed  the  muzzle  against  McKee's  breast 
and  demanded  to  know  Avhat  he  was  doing. 

Instead  of  replying,  INIcKee  motioned  with  his 
head  and  partly  whispered  to  the  man  beside  him 
to  kick  the  gun  away;  but  the  man  was  afraid 
to  try.  McKee,;  looWing  the  rebel  square  in  the  eye, 
let  drive  with  his  foot  and  kicked  the  gun  clear 
out  of  his  hands.  This  disturbance  brought  the 
other  ttwo  men  to  the  scene.  One  of  them  ran  to 
McKee  and  placing  the  muzzle  of  the  gun  against 
his  side  shot  him  dead.  His  two  comrades  being 
free  from  each  other',  but  with  their  hands  still 
tied  behind  them,  took  to  their  heels.  One  shot 
wae  fired  after  them,  but  the  trees  were  thick  and 
the  men  ran  zigzaging  among  them,  and  after  a 
long  pursuit  ihey  made  their  escape  and  got  back 
to'  camp  about  3  o'clock  in  the  afternoon.  They 
gave  the  alarm,  and  a  company  of  ITlinois  cavalry, 
with  the  two  Ohio  men  as  guides,  went  out  to  the 
spot.  They  found  poor  McKee  and  brought  him 
into  camp,  but  saw  no  rebels.  The  two  Oliio  men 
said  they  owe'd  their  lives  to  McKee's  bravery  and 
rashness.  We  buried  him  near  the  banks  of  the 
Eed  river  with  military  honors;  his  grave  "was 
marked  with  a  wooden  slab  lettered  with  the  date, 
manner  of  his  death,  name,  age,  etc.  The  next 
morning  our  captain  received  an  order  from  Gen- 
eral Grover  to  take  our  company  and  a  company 
of  cavalry  and  go  to  the  plantation  and  lay  it 
waste;  and  we  did  it  in  good  shape,  you  may  de- 
pend. One  of  the  men  who  captured  McKee  was 
the  owner  of  the  plantation.  Captain  Charles  Diggs, 


and  the  mulatto  cliildren  were  his  offspring,  and,, 
of  course,  his  slaves  We  offered  to  take  the  woman 
and  cliildren  to  camp;  but  she  positively  declined 
our  hospitality. 

In  a  couple  of  days  more  we  again  took  up  the- 
line  of  march  for  Texas.  After  the  first  day's 
march  our  carvali-y  were  skirmishing  with  the  en- 
emy nearly  all  the  time  until  we  reached  Sabine- 
Cross  Eoads,  where  the  final   battle  waa  fought. 

Then  followed  the  disaster  of  Sabine  Cross  Roads, 
and  the  next  day  the  battle  of  Pleasant  HilL  where 
General  A.  J.  Smith  arrived  just  in  time  with  parts 
of  the  Sixteenth  and  Seventeenth  Corps  to  save 
the  Thirteenth  and  Nineteenth  Corps  from  annni- 
liilation.  There  are  events  in  my  soldier  experi- 
ence which  I  cannot  dwell  upon  at  this  late  day 
without  a  feeling  of  indignation  against  those  hi^h 
in  command.  The  way  our  brave  men  were  handled 
was  a  bliwder.  But  criticisms  at  this  late  day 
are  of  no  use.  E.  M.  COOK. 


ONE    LEAF    FROM    A    SOIiDIEE'S    MEMORY- 


THE   VARIED   DANGERS   AND   EXPERIENCES 
WHICH  HE  WENT  THROUGH  IN  ONE  DAT. 

Ohio,  N.  Y.,  Feb.  4.— Time,  early  morning.  May 
9,  18  64.  Place,  Violet  Station  on  the  Richmond 
and  Petersburg  Railroad,  and  camp  of  the  81st 
New-York  Veteran  Volunteer  Infantry.  Order, 
"Turn  out."  Obedient  to  command,  the  soldiers 
quickly  crawled  out  from  their  "  dog-tents"  ready 
to  receive  and  obey  the  expected  orders  for  duty. 
A  movement  of  some  kind  was  on  foot,  an  advance 
to  the  front  in  light  marching  order.  Fifteen 
minutes  was  allowed  in  which  to  make  coffee, 
la  a  moment  all  was  bustle,  but  there  was  no 
confusion.  Three  years  of  hardship  and  ex-posure 
had  made  the  men  veterans,  and  they  proceeded 
quickly  before  the  gray  twilight  of  early  morn 
had  begun  to  break  in  the  eastern  horizon  to 
perform  those  little  duties  so  common  to  the 
soldier  when  he  knows  the  affray  is  at  hand  and 
at  the  next  roll-call  his  name  may  not  be  answered 

At  5  a.  m.  the  troops  were  in  motion.  As  they 
filed  out  of  the  rifle  pits  and  neared  the  picket 
line  the  adjutant-general  galloped  up  to  the 
colonel  and  saluted  with,  "Compliments  of  the 
General.  The  81st  is  ordered  to  the  front  as 
skirmishers."  More  than  a  quarter  of  a  century 
has  passed,  and  the  memory  of  many  stirring 
events  has  become  little  more  than  a  shadow  upon 
my  mental  vision,  but  these  scenes  and  the 
mental  strain  incident  to  them  leave  an  impress 
which  death  alone  can  efface. 

"As  skirmishers,  deploy;  on  centre  file  take 
intervals ;  forward,  march  !  "  Often  in  the  silent 
hours  of  the  night  a  soldier  awaJtens  in  tlie  act 
of  obeying  some  like  command.  Tlie  skirmish 
line  was  in  motion.  Brigades  in  column  fol- 
lowed after  us,  the  glorious  old  flag  gently  flat- 
tering in  the  morning  breeze.  Ai^s  and  order- 
lies were  galloping  from  right  to  left  of  the 
moving  column  with  orders  for  the  different  com- 
mands.    The  skirmishers  moved  quickly  forward 


TRUE    STORIES    OF    THE     WAE    FOR    THE    UNION. 


37 


until  they  reached  the  wood,  Avhon  tliey  slackened 
pace  and  proceeded  with  greater  caution.  Wo 
Iviiew  the  enemy  was  near,  lor  the  advance  out- 
posts of  their  picket  line  had  been  aban'loned, 
and  we  found  the  fires  where  tliey  had  spent 
their  night's  vigil  as  videttei  still  Ijurning,  and 
their  knapsacks  abandoned  as  thej'  had  flel  from 
our   approach. 

Jiverj'  eye  Avas  strained  to  catch  a  glimpse  of 
the  retreating  foe  and  to  escape  the  much  dreaded 
ambuscade.  The  rei  ort  of  a  musket,  a  pud'  of  blue 
F.moke  and  the  cry  cf  '"My  God,  I  am  sliut!"'  from 
tlie  comrade  on  my  left  told  us  we  were  upon 
them.  A  inttJe  oC  musketry  gave  warning  to  the 
•columns  fidlowing,  now  hid  from  sight  by  the 
Avood.  Tlie  skirmishers  sought  cover  behind  the 
trii-ndly  trees,  and  reloaded  their  guns.  "  For- 
Avard !  ■'  came  the  order  in  clear,  ringing  tones 
from  the  officer  in  coirmand  of  the  line,  and 
•again  the  advance  began.  No  time  to  help  a 
fallen  comrade  now.  We  could  only  turn  to  take 
-a  look  at  him  murmur  in  broken  accents,  "  Good- 
by,  Sco^tie, "  take  cur  place  in  line,  and  move 
on.  We  closel.y  followed  the  retreating  foe 
thri  ugh  the  wood  into  an  open  field. 

Here  now  adventures  awaited  us.  "  Rebel 
•cavalry!"  The  soldier  who  has  heard  this  cry 
■can  rt>ali7e  its  full  import,  and  no  other  man  can. 
On  came  the  galloping  horsemen.  "By  fours, 
a-ally ! "  was  the  order,  and  the  four  "  comrades 
in  arms"  rushed  to  each  other,  firmly  planted 
their  feet  together,  came  to  a  ''charge  bayonet" 
and  awaited  the  rusJi  with  bated  breath,  de- 
termined to  do  or  die.  The  cavalry  discovered 
•our  timely  movement,  whe<'led  to  the  right,  turned 
into  a  lane,  and  trotted  back,  while  we  gave  them 
parting  shots  from  our  Enfields  and  cheered 
them  —for  what  I  hardly  know,  except  that  it  wavS 
a  propensity  indulged  in  at  every  brave  act  of 
•either  friend  oi-  foe,  and  reviving  to  our  spirits. 

Tlie  lir^e  was  again  reformed  and  strengthened. 
We  took  "half  distance"  and  moved  forward  at 
"  quick  step"  until  w^  caught  up  and  were  again 
engaged.  But  with  the  line  strengthened  we 
forced  the  retre.^t  without  stopping.  Ask  an  old 
soldier  how  he  felt  when  chasing  a  retreating 
"  I  uttcinut,"  with  his  long  hair  and  old  slouched 
liat.  and  I  venture  to  say  he  wiU  become  animated 
.in  a  moment,  tnke  a  chew  cf  navj-,  and  proceed 
to  tire  you  out  with  an  account  of  e^ploits  in 
pedestrianism,  "graybacks, "  wormy  hardtack 
and  flag  planting  which  would  insure  the  vote 
of  every  M.  C.  for  a  pension ;  and  every  word 
of  it  true. 

We  examined  our  cartrilge  boxes  an  1  found  that 
ammunition  was  growing  less,  which  reminded  us 
to  make  our  shots  with  better  aim.  Another 
impediment  confronted  us.  Black  clouds  of 
smoke  were  seen  to  ascend  in  our  front,  and  we 
discovered  the  woods  on  fire.  The  rebels  in  their 
desperation  at  our  rapid  advance  and  to  retard 
•our  progress  had  set  fire  to  the  woods,  and  now 
the  fine  pine  leaves  and  cones  furnished  material 
for  a  quick  and  hot  fire  through  which  we  must 
pass.  Tliere  was  nothing  which  should  stop  a 
soldier  when  following  the  retreating  foe,  except 
impenetrable  diflicultif^s  and  death.  Through 
■.thii<  burning  wood  with  the  nierilian  sun  pcuring 


its  direct  rays  upon  their  unprotected  heads, 
never  d<iul)ting,  never  questioning,  never  halting, 
but  finding  this  heat  far  more  destructive  thado. 
the  enemy's  bullets,  the  soldiei's  pressed  forward. 

We  soon  again  found  the  enemy  and  in  force. 
Our  line  crossed  the  R.  and  P.  R,.  J?.,  and  We  were 
met  witli  vollej^s  of  musketry  and  with  scream- 
ing sliellfr,  which  tore  through  the  tree  tops, 
causing  »nore  damage  from  broken  limbs  of 
trees  than  from  their  own  fragments.  Coming 
upon  a  score  or  more  of  rebels  in  command  of 
a  captain  who  by  sonie  means  had  become  de- 
tached from  their  command,  we  inviteci  them  in- 
side our  lines,  wliich  iiiN'itation  was  reluctantly 
accepted.  The  chaplain  of  the  98th  N  Y.  Vol- 
unteers, a  man  who  could  fight  rebels  as  well  as 
sin  and  the  devil,  took  the  captain's  sword.  The 
writer,  hoping  to  learn  where  the  shelling  came 
from,  asked  the  captain  wnether  it  was  from  a 
light  field  battery  or  fortifications.  Ifis  answer 
rings  in  my  ears  yet:  "You'uns  said  you  would 
b:>  in  Petersburg  before  night.  When  you  get 
there  you  will  find  out."  He  was  a  fine- 
It  oking  officer  and  I  could  only  admire  the  an- 
swer, although  I  was  not  a  bit  the  wiser  on  ac- 
count of  it. 

It  was  4  p.  m.,  eleven  hours  since  we  had 
c'eployed  as  skirmishers.  INo  rest,  no  dinner,  ex- 
cept the  nibbling  of  a  hardtack.  We  greeted 
1  ho  relief  Avith  joy.  On  the  right  of  us  the 
battle  was  raging  with  awful  fury.  The  rattle  of 
:-.mall  arms  and  the  roar  of  cannon  made  the 
earth  tremble,  and  we  trem])Ied  also.  A  lull 
ahvays  follows  the  storm  of  battle,  like  some 
mighty  giant  draAving  an  inspiration  preparatory 
to  a  reneAval  of  the  conflict. 

What  sourd  is  this  Ihat  p-e-^ts  our  ear, 
Echoing  loud  from  left  and  rear? 

The  practised  ear  of  the  old  soldier,  private 
though  he  be,  knew  full  well  the  meaning.  It 
Avas  an  attack  in  our  rear  from  Richmond  way. 
We  ^lought  of  the  morroAV  with  apprehension. 

The  sun  sank  to  rest  behind  the  western  tree- 
to[js,  sure  to  rise  again  the  following  day ;  the 
souls  of  hundreds  of  braA'e  and  true  comrades 
had  also  sunk  to  rest,  but  not  to  rise  until  the 
morning  of  the  resurrection.  Tlie  regiment  took 
its  assigned  position.  The  men  dropped  upon  the 
ground  and  gathered  strength  from  "  Nature's 
SAveet  restorer,  balmy  sleep. "  The  moon  shone 
forth  Avith  mellow  light,  casting  uncannj^  shadows 
among  the  trees.  Tlie  enemy's  dead  and  wounded 
lay  l)etween  the  lines,  the  latter  groaning  in  pain 
and  begging  Ijoth  for  help  and  a  drop  o.f  Avater  to 
cool  their  feA'erish  lips  and  parched  tongues.  Our 
hearts  melted  in  sympathy,  and  some  craAvled  out 
to  them  and  administ'ered  help,  wlule  the  less 
seA'erely  wounded  were  helped  within  the  lines. 
We  heard  the  rumble  of  cars  approaching,  and 
full  A\-ell  Ave  knew  tliat  the  enemy  Avere  receiving 
reinforcements,  for  Ioav  as  were  the  tones  in  which 
then-  orders  Avere  giA-en  they  Avere  as  distinct  to 
our  ear  as  those  of  our  oAvn  officers. 

A  night  attack!  Who  can  describe  it?  First 
the  crack  of  the  picket's  rifle  broke  the  stillness 
of  the  niglit.  Another  and  anotlier,  in  rapid 
.'ucccssion,  a  A-olley,  and  then  the  thunder  of  the 


38 


LIBEAEY    OF    TEIBUNE    EXTRAS. 


/ 


artiMery.  The  enemy  was  repulsed,  the  fire  slack- 
ens, stops,  and  silence  again  reigmed  except  the 
agonizing  groans  of  the  wounded  and  dying.  Three 
times  they  charged  ere  the  morning  dawned. 
With  the  first  gray  streaks  we  were  in  motion. 
"  rUe.  left,  cross  the  railroad  1 "  And  we  knew  it 
was  a  retreat  back  to  camp.  What  more  can  I 
add,  except  to  say:     "'Some  one  had  blundered." 

JAMES    HANE, 
/  Co.  C,  8l8t  N.  Y.  V.  Inft. 


WHEN   LINCOLN'S   EUNERAL    CAR    PASSED. 
y  Spencertown,    N.    Y.,    Feb.    4.— The    following 

^  story  came  into  my  possession  in   1890,   in  the 

form  of  a  letter  to  me  from  its  author.  Think- 
ing that  it  may  be  of  interest  to  the  readers 
of  The  Tribune,  I   send  it  for   publication. 

GEORGE    P.    JENNINGS. 


In  compliant  with  request,  I  will  relate  a 
reminiscence  of  the  War  of  the  Rebellion, 
which,  in  part,  I  related  to  you  at  the  pavihon 
on  the  Green's  Farms  Beach  not  long  ago. 

The  General  Government  had  established  hos- 
pitals at  many  places  for  the  treatment  of  gick 
and  wounded  soldiers.  Among  the  number  was 
one  at  the  city  of  York,  Penn.,  called  the 
United  States  General  Hospital.  Along 
with  many  other  soldiers,  it  was  my  good 
fortune  to  be  sent  to  the  place  named  during 
March,  1865.  I  say  "good  fortune''  because  of 
the  kind  treatment  I  received  there.  Not  only 
wise  and  humane  surgeons,  but  air,  water,  food 
and  kindness  of  attendants  all  combiued  rap- 
idly to  restore  to  health  the  poor,  broken  bodies 
of  the  patients.  In  justice  I  must  say  the  hos- 
pital at  York  was  second  to  none  in  the  country. 
Only  one  tiling  occurred  while  I  was  there 
which  I  could  not  understand,  and  was  by  me 
incomprehensible  and  utterly  inexcusable  on  any 
grounds  whatever.  I  will  try  to  relate  the 
circumstance  wliich  sent  myself,  along  with  some 
thirty  or  forty  other  soldiers,  with  undue  haste 
from  York  to  Baltimore. 

The  grounds  devoted  to  hospital  purposes  con- 
sisted of  about  twenty-five  acres  of  land,  on 
which  stood  the  barracks,  chapel,  cook-houses, 
vault  for  the  dead,  guardhouse,  etc.  The  land 
was  in  a  tract  nearly  square,  with  barracl^s 
fencing  the  two  sides  lying  next  the  city.  The 
otlier  two  sides  were  inclosed  with  a  board  fence 
thirteen  feet  high.  This  tight  fence,  I  must 
say,  was  probably  intended  to  keep  outsiders 
out,  instead  of  keeping-  the  soldiers  in.  The 
officials  were  very  kind,  granting  permits  to  all 
who  were  able  to  walk  out  during  the  day,  the 
only  injunction  being  to  be  sure  and  return  by 
the  time  the  permit  (called  a  pass)  was  up. 
Tliey  refused  me  a  pass  only  once,  and  never 
gave  me  the  chance  to  ask  for  another. 

On  the  morning  of  AprU  15  I  saw  the  flag  at 
headquarters  drop  to  half-mast,  and  there  stop. 
Hastening  toward  headquarters  to  find  out  the 
trouble,  I  met  a  comrade  coming  to,  teM  us  of 
Booth's  terrible  deed  of  the  night  before.  Then," 
indeed,  there  was  sorrow  in  the  camp,  at  first 
dumb   and  silent.     As  soon  as  the  gloomy  news 


was  verified  the  little  knots  of  soldiers  broke  up,^ 
and  each  man  seemed  anxious  to  steal  away  in 
solitude,  and  to  be  alone.  It  was  a  dark,  dismal 
day  of  mourning  by  strong-minded  and  brave 
men.  How  heavy  seemed  the  timel  Of  course^. 
toward  night,  came  the  reaction ;  to  some  sooner 
than  to  others.  I  leave  to  your  own  vivid  imagin- 
ation the  task  to  picture  the  indescribable  utter- 
ances of  woe  and  wretchedness  prophesied  lor 
our  country  by  those  grief -stricken  men,  and 
their  utterly  useless  curses  on  the  head  of  the 
wUd  fanatic  who  was  the  cause  of  the  Nation's 
grief. 

Days  went  on.  The  funeral  train  with  the 
catafalque  would  pass  through  Yoiji:  on  its  way. 
Every  soldier  there  was  anxious  to  see  the  sacred 
pageant.  'rhe  day  arrived  at  last.  We  all 
knew  uke  time  when  the  train  would  ar- 
rive, amd  all  expected  that  the  hospital 
gates  would  be  thrown  open  wide  on  that 
occasion.  But  judge  of  my  surprise,  waen,. 
as  I  went  along  the  walk  toward  the  main  en- 
trance, I  saw  every  soldier  who  could  hobble  out 
on  crutches  or  otherwise  gathered  into  little 
groups  near  the  middle  of  the  grounds.  What 
could  it  mean?  Surely  one-half  at  least  were 
men  able  to  get  to  the  depot.  Then  I  saw  that 
the  gate  was  closed.  I  turned  into  the  head- 
quarters and  asked  for  a  pass,  determined  that 
I  would  go  if  no  one  else  did.  The  official  in- 
formed me  that  no  passes  would  be  granted  that 
day,  and  that  I  must  return  to  my  quarters. 

Friend  George,  "where  there  is  a  will,  there- 
is  a  way."  Especially  when  one  has  the  key! 
Instead  of  going  to  mj  quarters,  I  went  among 
the  soldiers.  There  were  some  500  men,  perhaps 
l,O0a,  as  anxious  to  get  out  as  I  was,  and  all 
growling  at  our  hard  lot  in  not  being  able  to  go 
out.  All  that  we  couiu  possibly  have  seen  from 
the  inside  would  have  been  the  smoke  of  the 
engine,  as  the  train  would  pass  into  the  cjty.  I 
proposed  that  we  make  a  break  through  the 
fence.  "Oh,"  came  the  replj-,  "they  will  put  us 
in  the  guardhouse."  My  time  was  limited.  So 
without  waiting  to  bandy  words,  I  passeu  on  into 
the  centre  of  the  men,  took  oii  my  cap  and  asked 
if  there  were  any  New- York  men  there.  Five  or 
six  men  sprang  up,  saying  tliey  were  New-York 
men,  and  asked,  "What's  up.^*"  In  a  few  word» 
I  told  them  that  that  was  one  of  the  great  days 
of  our  lives,  and  I  for  one  was  ready  to  smash 
a  hole  through  that  fence  and  see  that  sacred 
train,  let  the  consequences  be  what  they  might. 
It  only  needed  a  spark  to  start  the  fire. 

The  result  was  every  man  who  could  walk  was 
soon  drawn  up  in  line  on  the  bank  of  the  rail- 
road cut  through  wliich  the  train  would  come. 
I  stood  at  the  left  of  the  line,  told  them  to- 
"  get  into  the  position  of  soldiers,  take  off  their 
caps  and  salute  the  train  as  it  went  by."  We 
had  hardly  got  into  position  when  on  cam-^  the 
engine  and  tender  sent  ahead  to  see  that  the 
track  was  clear.  The  engineer  shouted  to  us 
to  keep  our  position,  as  the  train  would  be  along 
in  ten  minutes. 

Scarcely  had  five  minutes  gone  by  when  around 
the    curve   came    the    engine    drawing    the    most 


TEUE    STOEIES    OF    THE    WAE    FOE    THE    UNION. 


39 


illustrious  body  which  ever  has  or  ever  will  in  all 
probability  pass  through  the  city  of  York.  We 
saluted  the  noble  escort  properly,  and  from  every 
car  window  and  platform  the  salutation  was  re- 
turned. We  then  felt  within  ourselves  that  no 
guardhouse  in  York,  or  anywhere  else,  would  ever, 
or  could  ever,  for  one  moment  cause  ns  to  regret 
the  step  we  had  taken. 

After  the  train  had  passed  by  we  broke  ranks 
and  every  soldier  immediately  returned  into  the 
pen  and  to  his  quarters.  There  is  another  chapter 
to  this,  but*ifearing  that  you  may,  in  a  mejis- 
ure,  consider  me  egotistical,  I  will  close  here.— L.  S. 
Griswold. 


A  FIGHTING  EDITOE. 

In  the  spring  of  1861,  Dr.  Charles  Elliott  edited 
"The  Central  Christian  Advocate"  in  the  third 
story  of  a  business  block  in  St.  E/ouia,  Mo. 

"The  Southern  Chrisiian  Advocate,"  which  rep- 
resented the  views  of  the  South,  was  at  tlie  time 
published  in  the  secc^d  story  of  the  same  build- 
ing. 

The  two  editors,  'who  had  always  been  per- 
oonally  friendly  to  each  other,  wei-e  Avide  apart 
on  the  great  question  of  disunion,  which  was 
stirring  the  hearts  of  the  people. 

Dr.  Elliott  was  a  genial  Irishman  of  great 
ability  and  courage.  -He  was  one  of  the  most 
learned  men  in  the  country.  It  is  a  remarkable 
fast  that  he  had  never  been  in  a  college  until 
he  was  chosen  president  of  one  of  the  finest 
Western  institutions  of  learning,  yet  he  was  master 
of  all  the  highest  university  studies  taught.  Latin, 
Greek,  Hebrew,  French,  German,  Sanscrit,  Spanish 
and  many  other  languages  were  as  familiar  to 
him  as  the  English',  and  he  was  profoundly  versed 
in  the  natural  sciences  and  mathematics.  He  was 
a  thorough  scholar,  and  made  a  good  college  presi- 
dent. But  the  Church  needed  a  strong,  loyal 
man",  with  the'  courage  to  stand  for  the  truth,  at 
tins  outpost,  and  Dr.  Elliott  was  chosen. 

Both  editors  were  able  and  fearless  men,  and 
they  fought  many  a  hard  battle  with  theii-  pens 
before  the  bombardment  of  Fort  Sumter.  Aiter 
the  fall  of  Sumter,  the  excitement  in  St.  Louis 
ran  high.  The  city  Avas  abouD  evenly  divided 
in  sentiment,  and  no  one  dared  to  predict  what 
a  day  or  an  hour  would  bring  forth.  The  Stars 
and  Stripes,  symbolizing  the  Union  cause,  and 
the  State  flag,  representing  the  disunion  cause, 
floated  here  and  there  side  by  side  on  adjoining 
buildings.  The  two  editors  grew  more  intense  in 
feeling  as  the  conflict  deepened.  Dr.  Elliott's 
strong,  masterly  arraignment  of  the  South  for  the 
crime  of  slavery,  and  his  cutting  sarcasm  over 
secession,  were  almost  unbearable  to  the  managers 
of  tlie  other  paper,  and  the  latter  tried  to  pay 
him  back,  with  interest;  but  at  first  neither  one 
actually  unfurled  on  the  building  the  banner 
which  represented  his  principles. 

One  day  news  readied  St.  Louis  that  General 
Price  had  Won  a  victory,  and  the  Editor  of  "  The 
Southern  Christian  Advocate"  threw  out  the 
State  flag.  A  few  moments  afterward  a  friend 
came  rushing  into  Dr.  Elliott's  sanctum:  "Doc- 
tor, they  have  thrown  out  the  rebel  flag  down 


stairs."  Dr.  Elliott  sprang  from  his  editorial 
chair  and  rushed  to  the  front  window.  Tliere, 
sure  enough,  was  the  flag  of  disunion,  waving 
in  the  breeze.  Dr.  Elliott  had  prepared  for 
just  such  an  emergency.  All  the  ropes  and  guys 
were  ready.  He  ran  to  a  closet,  brought  forth 
an  immense  Union  flag  and  threw  it  out.  The 
next  moment  it  was  in  ite  place,  and  was  wav- 
ing back  and  forth  before  the  windows  of  the 
office  below  and  slapping  the  other  flag  furiously. 
Dr.  Elliott  laid  out  a  brace  of  pistols  on  his 
editorial  table,  and  took  his  seat  to  await 
developments.  He  did  not  have  long  to  wait. 
The  tramp  of  feet  was  heard  on  the  stairs,  and 
the  Editor  of  "  The  Southern  Christian  Advocate'' 
rushed  In,  with  some  of  his  friends. 

"Take  down  that  flag!"  he  thundered. 

"  I  shall  not  take  down  that  flag,  and  if  any 
man  touches  it  I  wiU  shoot  him  on  the  spot  as 
an  enemy  of  my  country,"  was  Dr.  Elliott's  prompt 
reply,  as  he  stood,  pistol  in  hand,  ready  to 
execute  his  threat. 

After  some  parley  the  invading  force  retired. 

Shortly  afterward  a  large  Union  force  was 
thrown  into  St.  Louis;  martial  law  was  declared 
and  aU  the  rebel  flags  were  hauled  down.  The 
beautiful  flag  which  Dr.  Elliott  had  displayed 
in  front  of  his  office  continued  to  wave  in 
triumph  until  the  war  was  over.-(Annie  Witten- 
myer.  .^ . 

BLOWING  UP  OF  FOET  HILL. 
In  the  hues  of  Vicksburg  during  the  siege  there 
was  no  stronger  point  that  Fort  Hill.  The  land 
stood  high  and  the  approach  was  almost  perpen- 
dicular at  some  points.  In  the  assignment  of 
troops  to  positions  General  John  A.  Logans 
division  was  placed  in  front  of  Fort  Hill.  Gen- 
eral Logan  was  a  man  of  energy  and  a  great 
fighter.  With  the  consent  of  his  superiors  in 
command  he  planned  to  mine  Fort  Hill.  The 
work  was  begun  at  a  distance  in  the  rear,  be- 
hind a  bluff,  so  as  to  hide  the  operation  from 
the  Confederates.  General  Logan's  engineers, 
with  scientific  precision,  directed  the  tunnel 
toward  Fort  Hill.  There  were  weary  days  and 
nights  of  digging  before  they  reached  the  founda- 
tio'n  of  the  fort.  But  there  came  to  the  ears 
of  the  Confederates,  at  last,  even  amid  the 
thunder  of  the  cannon  and  the  screaming  of 
shells,  the  sounds  of  the  mining.  Night  after 
night  men  listened  with  their  ears  to  the  ground 
to  the  sound  of  the  Union  picks.  The  Confed- 
erates soon  began  to  counter-mine,  and  it  was  not 
long  before  the  toilers  in  the  Union  tunnel  heard 
the"  thud  of  the  Confederate  picks  nearly  over 
their  hexids.  They  were  too  high  to  strike  the 
Union  timnel,  but  it  was  evident  that  no  time 
must  be  lost  in  blowing  up  the  fort.  Tons  of 
powder  were  carried  in,  and  one  bright  after- 
noon about  2  o'clock  the  slow  fuse  was  lighte<l 
and  the  tunmel  was  cleared.  Tlie  regular  firing 
of  the  battle  was  going  on.  There  was  nothiug  in 
the  movements  of  the  army  to  indicate  that  any- 
thing unusual  was  about  to  occur.  Suddenly  a 
terrific  explosion  sho(.k  tlie  foundations  of  tlie 
earth,   and   tlie  heavy   timbers   of  the  fort   were 


40 


LIBRAEY    OF    TEIBUIS^E    EXTliAS. 


tons  of  earth  were  lifted  skj^ward.  The  next 
moment  the  dust  and  smoke  liid  everything  from 
view.  General  Lo^n  and  his  men  pushed  into 
the  hreach,  hoping  to  effect  wr  entrance  before 
the  Confederates  had  recovered  from  the  shock ; 
but  a  glittering  w^ll  of  Ijayonets  met  them  and 
they  were  pushed  back  inch  by  inch.  All  that 
afternoon  and  eveiiing  hand-grenades  were  tossed 
back  and  forth,  as  in  a  game  of  baseball;  but  an 
entrance  could  not  be  made. 

A  strange  incident  occurred  at  the  blowing  up 
of  Fort  Hill,  which  is  perhaps  without  a  parallel. 
There  was  at  the  time  of  the  explosion  a  slave 
boy  about  eighteen  years  old  working  with  others 
in  the  Confederate  tunnel.  Tliis  boy  was  lifted 
up  with  timbers  and  tons  of  earth  and  thrown 
into  tlie  Union  lines.  He  fell  among  the  men  of 
Williams's  Battery  of  Ohio.  When  the  maai  raa 
to  pick  him  up;  he  exclaimed  with  terror,  "  Is 
you  Yanks  goin"  to  kill  me?" 

"Oh,  no,  we  don't  kill  colored  folks,"  was  the 
prompt  reply. 

"  Oh  goUy,  I  went  up  free  miles." 

"Could  you  see  anything?"  was  asked. 

"  When  I"se  goin'  up,"  he  said,  "  'most  eberything 
was  comin'  down,  and  when  I"se  comin'  down 
Jmost  eberything  was  goin'  up. " 

"Who  commanded  Fort  Hill?"  inoutred  one  of 
the  gunners. 

"My  massy,"  replied  the  boj^ 

"  Where  is  your  massa  now  ?" 

"  'Fore  God,  genl'men,  I  can't  tell  you ;  he  was 
goin'  up  when  I'se  comin'  down." 

Pictures  of  the  boy  were  preserved  by 
Williams's  Battery,  taken  soon  after  the  explo- 
sion, showing  the  boy  in  the  patched  tow  garments 
he  wore  in  his  wild  flight  for  liberty.      General 

Logan  kept  him  at  his  headquarters  for  some  time. 

^ _ 

CHICKA.MAUGA-S  BLOODY  FIELD. 


WHAT  CAME  UNDER  THE  OBSERVATION  OF  ONE 
ARTILLERYMAN  IN  THAT  FAMOUS  BATTLE. 
Lincoln,  Neb.  Feb.  18.— The  campaign  under 
Major-General  Eosecrans,  which  terminated  in 
our  defeat  on  Chickamauga  field,  was  one  M'hich 
will  not  be  easily  forgotten  hj  some  of  us  who 
were  participants  in  the  movements.  Immediately 
before  and  after  that  memorable  fight,  if  I  remem- 
ber rightly,  the  army  of  General  Eosecrans  under- 
took to  pierce  the  State  of  Georgia,  the  army  mov- 
ing in  echelon  across  the  mountains  of  Southern 
Tennessee  and  Northern  Georgia,  leaving  the  army 
of  General  Bragg  behind,  cut  oft'  from  his  commu- 
nications in  Chattanooga.  This  it  seems  from 
future  events  was  the  plan  to  gain  that  strong- 
hold without  a  struggle.  In  this  idea  General 
Eosecrans  was  very  much  disappointed. 

To  make  a  long  story  short,  the  Union  forces, 
it  seemed  to  us,  were  at  very  great  distances  apart. 
I  was  in  the  4th  Indiana  Battery  detailed  from 
th.:-  gallant  '^■ith  Illinois  Infantry,  in  the 
Fourteenth  Army  Corps,  under  command  of  Gen- 
eral George  H.  Thomas.  Our  division 
was         commanded         by  General         Beard, 

and    our    brigade     was     commanded     by     Gen- 
eral  Starkweather.       This  division  had   scarcely 


descended  from  the  last  range  of  mountaius  and 
begun  moving  in  the  direction  of  Lafayette,  Ga., 
when  we  were  confronted  by  more  rebels  in  the 
open  field  than  I  ever  saw  before  or  since.  Our 
division  formed  line  immediately,  and  we  got  our 
battery  into  position  without  delay.  Before  we 
could  fire  a  shot,  however,  the  order  was  given 
to  fall  back.  The  infantry  fellt  back  rapidly,  and 
we  dragged  our  cannon  by  the  prolong  ropes  under 
the  most  galling  and  murderous  fire  imaginable. 
It  seemed  'that  reinforcviuents  had  arrived  for 
Bragg,  and  tlieir  plan  was  utterly  to  destroy  our 
army  by  detaU.  This  fearful  fight  of  "  form  line 
and  fall  back  '  was  carried  on  until  the  darkness 
of  the  night  stopi)ed  the  carnage. 

That  night  was  one  to  be  remembered  by  all 
upon  either  side.  As  soon  as  it  was  dark  the 
whole  army  corps  was  ordered  to  "  double  tiuick" 
to   the  left. 

This  was  kept  up  for  about  eighteen  miles,  when 
we  found  ourselvt.'s  Immediately  in  front  and  south 
of  Chattanooga.  The  city  lay  about  seven  miles 
away.  We  soon  found  out  that  we  were  in 
terribly  bad  company.  About  7  o'clock  in  the 
morning  (Saturday)  the  Confederates  Oipened  fire 
upon  us  as  we  were  riding  along  in  battery.  Our 
infantry  men  were  taken  by  surprise.  The  imme- 
diate result  was  that  nearly  every  horse  m  the 
battery  was  killed  or  wounded.  Nearly  aU  the 
drivers  and  cannoneers  were  also  killed  and 
wounded,  and  we  all  fell  in  a  heap.  Our  infan- 
try retired,  and  the  rebels  came  on  the  charge 
with  fixed  bayonets  with  the  rebel  yell.  Tliey 
tramped  oa  us  poor  fellows  who  lay  there,  some 
under  the  wounded  horses  and  being  pounded 
into  the  ground  by  the  struggling  animals.  But 
in  a  few  minutes  we  heard  the  Yankee  roar,  and 
the  rebels  came  flying  back.  The  great  portion 
of  them,  however,  remained  on  the  ground,  being 
shot  down  in  droves  by  the  merciless  fire  opened 
by  the  heroes  of  Thomas's  corps.  Oui-  troops 
drove  those  rebels  back  where  they  started  from. 
A  member  of  the  gallant  24th  Illinois  jumped 
over  my  horse,  and  seeing  me  pulled  me  out. 
Then  we  gatliered  Oiurselves  together ;  got  our  guns 
into  position ;  put  up  some  logs  about  two  feet 
liigh,  and  began  business  at  once.  It  was  charge 
after  charge  all  day.  Our  line  was  broken  in 
many  places  during  the  day,  as  our  army  was 
separated  and  the  reinforcements  did  not  promptly 
arrive.  We  expected  that  every  man  of  us  would 
be  slaughtered,  but  the  night  came  and  we  rested 
on  both  sides,  not  knowing  who  would  tell  the 
story  to-morrow  night. 

Sunday  morning  at  sun-up  we  opened  all  of 
our  batteries.  The  infautri'  lay  down.  After  one 
hour  of  cannonading  more  rebels  woke  up  than 
we  had  any  idea  there  were  in  the  whole  Con- 
federacy. Duriug  the  day  we  fought  hand  to 
hand ;  our  lines  were  broken  in  many  places. 
Tliere  was  firing  beside  us,  behind  us  and  in 
front  of  us.  The  battle  was  going  from  all  direc- 
tions, when  Gordon  Granger's  corps  came  up  about 
noon,  and  then,  with  new  troops,  the  tide  of  battle 
turjied  in  our  favor,  althougii  only  for  a  short 
time. 

Toward    the   close   of   the   Sunday   It   appeared 

Ciryr  :>  r. 


TRUE    STOr^IE.":;    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    THE     UNION. 


41 


as  if  the  fi.i?ht  were  going  on  all  over.  Everj^body 
on  each  side  was  firing  on  his  own  responsibility. 
There  was  as  much  fioiitinjc  in  the  reat  as  in  our 
front.     Neither  side  was  willins"  to  retreat. 

I  finally  found  myself  tryiny  to  forire  my  waj'' 
ttlu-ough  Ringgold  Gap  with  one  Napoleon  gun,  a 
limber-box  and  two  badly  wounded  horses.  The 
Gap  was  full  of  struggling  liunianity  trampling 
one  another  down  iu  the  attempt  to  escape.  In 
the  mean  time  the  rebels  had  come  up  on  tJie  hill- 
sides above  us  and  were  killing  our  men  below 
like  sheep.  Some  troops  were  rallied  at  tliis  time 
and  [)artially  covered  the  retreat. 

Wo  did  not  retreat  to  Chaftanooga.  General 
Thomas  rallied  liis  corps  at  Mission  Ridge,  and 
while  we  did  not  win  the  field  of  Chickamauga 
we  fought  nearly  double  our  number  for  two  days 
and  nights,  and  Ave  demoralized  the  rebels  so 
badly  that  they  were  not  in  condition  to  follow 
us  up.  We  lay  in  Chattanooga  right  in  their 
front,  until  at  Jlission  Ridge  and  Lookout 
Mountain  we  captured  or  killed  nearly  their  whole 
■army.— (John  Currie.   24th  Illinois  Infantry. 


MY   FIRST   SERIOUS   ADVENTURE. 


>'^0T   HALF  SO  FUXNY,   HOWEVER,   AS  IT   SEEMED 
TO    OTHERS    AT    THE    TIME. 

Emporia,  Kan.,  Feb.  21.— I  have  been  much  in- 
terested in  reading  "  Cur  Chivalry  in  Blue''  as 
puljlished  in  our  truly  loyal  New-York  Tribune. 
Tliis  evening  my  mind  reverts  back  to  the  early 
days  of  the  wa.'  more  especially,  and  a  few 
reminiscences  may  not  be  void  of  interest  to  your 
loyal  readers.  When  the  tocsin  of  war  sounded 
in  18t)l  I  was  a  quiet,  unassuming  granger,  on 
a  little  farm  in  Gentry  County,  Missouri,  having 
just  landed  from  the  Hawkeye  State,  and,  like 
many  others,  a  total  stranger  to  war's  alarms. 
Many  of  my  nej^^hbors  bore  military  titles,  all 
of  which  I  knew  very  little  about;  but  on  in- 
quiry I  learned  that  their  rank  was  graded 
by  the    number  of     darkies    they    owned. 

There  was  a  venturesome  fellow  at  Bedford, 
Iowa,  by  the  name  of  Dale,  who  had  organized 
a  company  and  who  thought  he  would  take  a 
:stroll  down  through  our  country  and  learn  what 
was  going  on.  Communication  had  about  ceased. 
He  cime  to  a  point  on  Grand  lUver  known  as 
West  Point,  and  was  there  surrounded.  We  were 
ordered  out  on  the  double  quick  to  assist  him. 
We  liad  not  gone  far  when  one  of  the  rear  guard 
was  killed  by  a  shot  fro  n  the  brush.  I  was 
ordered  forward  to  notify  the  colonel.  After  I 
had  performed  the  sad  dut^  the  colonel  delivered 
liims^f  of  the  following  bloid  and  thunder  speech, 
verbatim  : 

"  Fellow-citizens,  I  havp  ^ust  learned  that  one 
•of  our  number  has  been  killed  from  the  brush. 
I  do  not  know  how  yon  feel,  but  I  think  Ave  had 
better  return  to  our  homes  and  protect  oar 
•own  firesides." 

Some  one,  howcA-er,  gave  the  command  "  For- 
Avard  march ! "  ignoring  the  colonel's  braA'e  con- 
clusion.    After   a   weary   march  Ave  l-'^arnod    that 


Major  Dale   had   compromised  with  the  Johnnies 
and   had   returned    to   Iowa. 

At  this  point  our  number  had  increased  to 
1,000  men,  Avith  all  lands  of  conveyances  auH 
all  manner  of  implements  of  Avar,  from  a  corn- 
knife  to  the  eA'er-ready  flintlock  rifle.  The  rebels, 
800  strong,  had  taTv'en  a  circuitous  route,  and 
gone  back  south  tAventy  mile?',  Avhcre  they  had 
fortified.  It  was  reported  that  they  Avere  sooil- 
ing  for  a  fight.  The  colonel,  Avith  blood  in  hia 
eye,  soon  had  us  on  the  march,  eager  for  the 
fray.  We  luid  not  gone  far  Avhen  we  received  a 
volley  from  a  cornfield.  The  fences  were  thrown 
down  and  Ave  Avent  in  pellmell.  My  horse,  not 
being  used  to  the  sport,  became  unmanageable, 
and  carried  me  far  in  the  advance,  but  I  managed 
to  turn  him  up  a  slough  and  get  him  checked 
in  time  to.  look  into  the  barrel  of  a  shotgun  in 
the  hands  of  a  boy  about  eight  or  nine  years  old. 
He  Avas  not  long  in  emptying  its  contents  of 
bird  shot  in  my  left  arm ;  some  of  the  shot  I 
am  carrying  to-daJ^  After  a  struggle  I  captured 
the  little  viper,  and  Avas  reAvarded  Avith  a  round 
of  laughter  for  my  first  serious  adA-eature.  In 
after  years,  when  in  the  heat  of  battle,  some 
one  who  Avas  Avith  me  during  that  preA'-ious  time 
would  yell  out:  "Look  out  a  bit.  Cooper,  there 
is  a  boy  in  the  grass." 

Then  after  another  hard  day's  march  we  camped 
!i.t  Greenwells  Ford  on  Grand  River,  tAvo  miles 
from  Avhere  the  rebels  Avere  entrenched,  expect- 
ing battle  in  the  morning.  But,  to  make  a  long 
story  short,  another  compromise  Avas  consummated, 
and  true  to  the  letter  these  were  the  terms :  The 
Johnnies  were  permittod  to  retain  their  firearms 
and  perform  the  humiliating  duty  of  marching 
under  the  American  Hag  to  the  tune  of  "Yankee 
Doo.ile. "  This  they  did.  The  most  of  them  fol- 
lowed Price  through   all  his  raids  in  Missouri. 

Tlius  ended  our  first  campaign,  with  the  loss  of 
only  three  men,  tAVO  by  accident,  and  one  bush- 
whacked, Avith  one  wounded,  as  stated.  Although 
I  served  in  the  volunteer  service  from  that  time 
on  till  the  15th  of  May,  1865,  in  the  front  most 
of  the  time,  my  first  experience  in  war  has  made 
the  most  lasting  impression.— iJames  B.  Cooper. 


FIRST  HERO  OF  THE  CIVIL  WiVE. 

Nicholas  Biddle,  a  man  Avho  lAvent  from  Pott»- 
ville,  Fenn.,  and  Avho  was  a  memljer  of  the 
National  light  Infantry,  Avho  were  the  first  troops 
to  reach  Washington,  was  the  first  man  to  shed 
his  blood  for  the  country.  This  regiment  had 
only  530  men,  but  they  reached  Baltimore  April 
18,  one  day  before  the  6th  itassachusett^.  They 
met  a  howling  mob  in  Baltimore  and  fought  their 
Avay  through  the  streets.  Nicholas  Biddle  Avas 
struck  on  the  head  by  a  stone  which  was  dropped 
from  a  building.  He  fell  senseless,  the  blood 
streaming  oA'cr  him.  His  comrades  carried  him 
into  a  car  and  he  finally  recoA'ered.  Although  he 
AA-as  sixty  years  old  when  he  enlisted,  he  served 
throughout  the  Avar,  and  returned  to  Pottsville 
with  those  avIio  surviA'ed  the  terrible  struggle. 
He  liv<\1   until   he  was  eighty  year:^  old,   aad  hia 


42 


LIBRARY    OF    TRIBUISTE    EXTRAS. 


friends  at  Pottsville,  Penn.,  have  placed  a  suitable 
monument  over  his  resting  place.  It  bears  the 
following  inscription: 

"  In  Memory  of 
Nicholas  Bid  die. 
Died   2d  Aug.,   1876,   aged   80  years. 
His  was  the  proud  distinction  of  shedding  the 
First  Blood    in    The   Late    War    for    The  Union. 
Being    wounded    while   marching    through   Balti- 
more with  the  First  Volunteers  from  Schuylkill 
County,    18th  April,   1861. 

Erected  By  His  Friends  of  Pottsxi-lle. " 

Mrs.  Elizabeth  Shearer,  an  army  nurse,  who 
cared  for  him  and  nursed  liim  back  to  hfe  ia 
still  living.     Her  home  is  in  Springfield.  Ohio. 

The  statement  made  in  a  recent  issue  of  The 
Tribune  that  Nicholas  Biddle  was  the  lirst 
volunteer  soldier  v/ounded  in  the  Civil  War  hjis 
been  questioned ;  as  has  also  the  fact  that  the 
Pennsylvania  troops  were  the  first  to  reach 
Washington.  The  history  is  a  brh;f  and  simple 
story  and  can  easily  be  verified. 

The  facts  are  these.  Five  hundred  and  thirty 
strong  patriotic  men  volunteered,  most  of  them 
from  PottsviUe,  Penn.,  including  the  National 
Light  Infantry.  The  folJowing  letter  from  Simon 
Cameron,  Secretary  of  War,  and  the  action  of 
the  United  States  Congress  seems  suflScient  to 
place  the  truth  of  the  matter  beyond  question : 

"Philadelphia,  July  4,  1866. 
"I  hereby  certify  that  the  Pottsville  Light 
Infantry  was  the  first  company  of  volunteers 
whose  services  were  offered  for  the  defence  of 
the  Capital,  at  the  beginning  of  the  War  of  the 
Rebelhon.  A  telegram  reached  the  War  Depart- 
ment on  April  13,  1861,  making  the  tender. 
It  was  immediately  accepted,  and  the  company 
reached  Washington  on  the  18th,  with  four  addi- 
tional companies  from  Pennsylvania,  and  these 
were  the  first  troops  to  reach  the  seat  of  Govern- 
ment. SIMON  CAJklERON." 

But  there  is  additional  proof.  On  July  22, 
1861,  the  United  States  Congress  passed  the 
following  resolution : 

"Resolved,  That  the  thanks  of  tlie  House  are 
due  and  are  hereby  tendered  to  the  530  soldiers 
from  Pennsylvania  who  passed  tlirough  the  mob 
of  Baltimore  and  reached  Washington  on  the 
18th  day  of  April  last,  for  the  defence  of  the 
National  Capital." 

Wliile  these  troops  were  passing  through  Balti- 
more a  mob  rushed  upon  them.  Tiie  only  colored 
man  in  the  company  was  severely  wound(  d  on  the 
head,  and  was  carried  off  the  field  by  his  white 
comrades.  It  is  a  remarkable  fact  that  the  first 
man  killed  in  the  Revolutionary  war  was  also  a 
colored  man,  Crispus  Attucks,  while  the  first  man 
to  shed  blood  for  his  country  as  a  volunteer  in 
our  recent  civil  war  was  the  colored  man, 
Nicholas  Biddle.  The  colored  people  of  tie  South 
were  true  to  the  best  interests  of  the  soldiers, 
and  often  at  tlie  risk  of  their  own  lives  assisted 
them  when  they  were  escaping  from  Southern 
prisons.  The  sight  of  a  black  face  was  a  pledge 
of  food  and  help.  ANNIE  WITTENMYER. 


OVT  OF  THE  JAWS  OF  DEATH 


TOM    GROSER'S    WAR    RECORD. 


A    STORY    WHICH    BEOAX    AT    OLUSTEE,    PASSEI> 

THROUGH    THE   PAII7S    OF   ANDERSOXVILLE, 

AXD     ENDED     IX     AX     UXEXPECTED 

MAXXER,    OX'E    CHRiSTMAS    EVE. 

Watertown,  Conn.,  Feb.  25.— Among  the  earliest 
operations  of  the  War  for  the  Union  in  1864  was 
that  of  the  Florida  expedition. 

President  Lincoln  had  been  informed  that  there 
were  Quite  a  number  of  Unionists  in  that  State, 
and  he  hoped  that,  a  State  government  loyal  to 
the  Union  might  be  organized  and  maintained 
if  a  sufficient  military  force  were  sent  to  support 
such  an  undertaking.  Accordingly  GeneraJj  GiU- 
more,  commanding  the  Department  of  the  South, 
organized  and  dispatched  an  expedition  of 
5,000  men,  twenty  steamers  and  a  fleet  of 
schooners,  accompanied  by  several  gunboats. 
General  I'ruman  Seymour  was  in  command.  This- 
force  arrived  at  JacksonviMe  Feb.  8,  1864. 
The  town  was  found  deserted.  With  little  delay 
the  troops  took  up  their  line  of  march  westward 
along  the  Florida  Central  Railroad,  halting  at 
Baldwin.  General  Gillmore  followed  the  ex- 
pedition to  this  point.  Having  seen  that  ail  had 
gone  well  thus  far,  he  returned  to  HUton  Head, 
leaving  instructions  with  General  Seymour  not 
to  move  beyond  Baldwin  without  further  orders. 
Seymour,  whose  courage  and  energy  were  much 
superior  to  his  capacity,  disregarded  General  Gill- 
moi-e's  orders,  however,  pushed  on,  capturing 
Camp  Finnegau,  and  penetrated  as  far  as  Sander- 
son, subsequently   falling  back   to   Barber's. 

Almost  the  entire  line  of  march  after  leaving 
Jacksonville  was  through  a  heavily  wooded 
country.  The  Georgia  pine  largely  predominated 
in  the  timber.  Live  oak,  with  its  long,  trailing 
mojs,  was  also  quite  common.  Occasionally  ther&- 
wouW  be  a  clearing  containinir  perhaps  half  a 
dozen  hou-ses  or  cabins  and  sheds,  dignified  with 
the      name     of     "  town. "  Other      settlements 

which  could  toast  of  a  dozen  or  more  buildings, 
would  assume  the  more  pretentious  title  of  "  city. " 

The  level,  sandy  roads  through  the  piny  woods 
aftorded  little  variety  of  scenery,  the  most  notice- 
able relief  from  the  monotony  being  an  occasional 
stretch  of  swamp.  An  old-fashioned  New-England 
liill  would  have  been  a  pleasant  sight,  both  a-*  a 
reminder  of  home  and  as  a  variation  in  the 
scenery.  Now  and  then  the  route  would  lie 
through  portions  of  the  forest,  where  the  trees 
had  been  tapped  for  turpentine,  rosin,  etc.  The 
bark  of  these  trees  had  been  removed  in  a  strip 
thiee  or  four  feet  long,  and  in  width  about  oU' 
third  of  the  tree's  circumference.  At  the  bottom 
of  the  denuded  portion  a  sort  of  gutter  or  cavity 
would  be  seen  cut  into  the  trunk,  into  wliich 
the  sap  would,  run  and  collect.  Many  acres  of 
trees  were  observed  treated  in  this  manner. 

Thus  far  the  expedition  had  met  with  little 
opposition.  The  climate,  the  season  and  the- 
charaeter  of  the  roads    made  marching  comjiara- 


TEUE    STORIES    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    THE    UNION. 


45 


tively  easy  for  the  troops,  and  the  men  found 
this  sort  of  service  a  pleasant  change  from  the 
inaction  and  sameness  of  camp  and  garrison  duty, 
and  from  that  different  kind  of  active  service 
■which  many  of  tliem  had  gone  tlirough  on  Morris 
Island  during  the  preceding  summer.  It  was 
always  a  time  of  genuine  enjoyment  when  the 
march  for  tlie  day  was  over,  and,  the  details 
for  camp  and  picket  guard  having  been  ma  le, 
knapsack  and  other  equipments  were  laid  aside 
for  a  halt  amid  the  grand  and  solemn  pines, 
under  which  huge  log  fires  were  soon  crackling 
and  glowing;  Big  camp  kettles  filled  with  hot, 
fragrant  coffee  swung  over  the  firea  Tin  cups 
and  haversacks  were  produced ;  and,  sitting  or 
lounging  near  the  fire,  taking  in  its  genial  warmth, 
the  tired  men  would  eat  their  simple  meal  of  hard- 
tack and  salt  pork,  washing  them  do^vn  with 
liberal  draughts  of  steaming  coffee  with  a  zest 
which  an  epicure  would  have  envied.  When  the 
meal  was  over,  pipes  would  be  filled  and  lighted, 
and  all  hands  would  give  themselves  up  to  the 
relaxations  of  the  hour.  Conversation  upon  the 
experiences  of  the  day,  the  prospects  of  the 
morrow,  stories,  jokes,  banter,  etc.,  would  while 
away  the  time.  After  a  while  blankets  would 
be  unrolled,  and  stretching  out  under  them,  with 
feet  to  the  fii-e,  the  men  would  soon  be  lulled  to 
sleep  by  the  soughing  of  the  night  breeze  through 
the  pines.  Insomnia  and  dyspepsia  under  such 
conditions  were  impossibilities. 

TRAPPED    AT   OLUSTEE. 

After  remaining  several  days  at  Barber's,  Gen- 
eral Seymour,  deceived  by  the  report  that  the 
Confederate  commander,  General  Finnegan,  had 
fallen  back  to  Lake  City,  started  on  the  morning 
of  February  20  with  the  design  of  cutting  the 
railroad  crossing  the  Suwanee  River.  The  troops 
moved  in  three  columns,  Scammon's  brigade  on 
the  right,  Barton's  in  the  centre  and  Hawley'a 
on  the  left,  with  Montgomery's  brigade  of  colored 
troops  as  a  reserve  following  in  the  rear.  Hamil- 
ton's, Langdon's  and  Elder's  batteries,  and  a 
detachment  of  the  Third  Rhode  Island  Artillery, 
in  all  sixteen  guns,  constituted  a  part  of  the 
force. 

Ihese  three  columns,  after  a  march  of  eighteen 
mUes,  came  upon  General  Finnegan's  forces  about 
2  p.  m.,  ambushed  in  a  very  strong  position  near 
Olustee  Statior,  one  flank  covered  by  a  swamp 
and  tlie  other  by  Ocean  Pond,  wliich  is  another 
name  for  Olustee.  Here  he  lay,  waiting  for  Sey- 
mour. Colonel  Henry's  cavalry  and  the  7th 
Connecticut  Infantry  marched  right  into  this 
trap,  and  battle  began  immediately  at  close 
quarters. 

Hamilton's  battel y  came  into  position  on  the 
e:^reme  front,  and  was  supported  by  the  7th  New- 
HamiKhire,  which  was  in  turn  supported  by  the 
8th  United  States  Colored  Infantry,  the  latter 
for  the  first  time  under  fire.  Both  regiments 
held  their  positions  with  splerdid  courage,  and 
lost  heavily.  The  field  batteries  also  lost  heavily, 
partieularly  Hamilton's,  whicli  was  placed  less 
than,  150  j^ards  from  the  enemy's  front.  Sharp- 
shooters picked  off  the  men  and  horses  of  this 
battery  so  rapidly    that  in  twenty  minutes  they 


had  lost  forty-five  of  their  eighty-two  men,  and 
forty  of  their  fifty  horses.  The  battery  then  fell 
back,  leaving  two  of  its  four  guns. 

Having  taken  a  different  route.  Barton's  brigade, 
confistiug  of  tlie  47th,  48th  and  115tli  New-York 
regiments,  did  not  reach  the  field  quite  so  soon. 
When  about  a  mile  away,  however,  the  rattle  of 
musketry  was  heard  by  them,  and  the  men  knew 
there  was  business  ahead.  With  quickened 
march  they  hurried  on.  Yery  soon  the  wliistling 
shot,  the  wounded  men,  on  stretchers  and  afoot, 
making  their  way  to  the  rear,  and  the  increased 
uproar,  showed  that  the  battle  was  near  by.  On 
the  doublequick  they  came  into  position  on  the 
line  held  by  the  8th  United  States  Colored  In- 
fantry, which  fell  back  as  they  CJime  up.  Barton'* 
brigade  now  held  the  centre  of  the  Une  of  bat- 
tle, and  began  firing.  Around  them  on  every 
side  were  the  tall  pines,  extending  beyond  the 
line  of  vision,  except  in  front,  where  there  was- 
a  partial  opening.  The  two  abandoned  guns  of 
Hamilton's  battery  stood  silent  near  by,  with  no- 
one  to  work  them.  Smoke  so  obscured  the  view 
in  front  that  little  couTd  be  seen  of  the  enemy^ 
but  the  leaden  hail  tearing  through  the  Union 
ranks,  killing  and  maiming  many,  gave  ample 
proof  that  the  enemy  was  not  far  away.    ' 

Fur  nearly  three  hours  this  position  was  held 
under  a  destructive  fire.  Sixty  rounds  of  am- 
munition had  been  fired,  and  no  more  was  to 
be  had.  No  apparent  impression  had  been  made 
upon  the  enemy,  while  the  total  Union  loss  was- 
nearly  2,000,  nearly  one-half  of  it  falling  upon 
Barton's  brigade.  From  the  start  the  enemy  had 
the  advantage  in  numbers,  position  and  general- 
ship. Almost  the  only  redeeming  features  of  the 
contest  on  the  Union  side  were  the  valor  and 
endurance  of  the  troops  under  such  adverse  cir- 
cumstances. 

General  Seymour,  who  had  borne  himself  with 
conspicuous  bravery  during  the  battle,  discovered 
the  lack  of  ammunition  and  decided  to  retreat. 
Montgomery's  colored  brigade  came  up  on  the 
double-quick,  and  under  cover  of  this  force  the 
troops  which  had  been  engaged  were  withdra^vn 
in  good  order,  leaving  many  dead  and  about 
250  of  their  most  severely  wounded  upon  the 
field. 

TRYIXG  TO  SAVE  THE  WOUNDED. 

A  noticeable  feature  of  the  abandonment  of  the 
field  was  the  desperate  efforts  of  the  colored  troop* 
to  save  their  wounded  comrades  from  falling 
into  the  hands  of  the  enemy,  knowing  full  well 
that  their  fate  would  be  an  exceptionally  cruel 
one  if  they  Avere  captured.  After  the  ambulances 
and  stretchers  had  been  filled  to  overflowing,  the 
big  lum.bering  Army  wagons  were  driven  over  the 
field  on  the  run.  Following  immediately  behind 
were  true  and  brave  black  soldiers,  who  caught 
up  their  wounded  comrades  as  they  came  to  them 
and  gave  them  a  toss  into  the  swaying,  jolting' 
wagon,  pilia^'  them  in  one  upon  another.  It  was 
a  harsh  ordeal  for  the  dusky  sufferers,  but  there 
was  no  time  for  tender  treatment  just  then. 
Cruel  as  it  must  have  been,  the  alternative  would 
probably  have  been  more  so.  A  few  of  the 
wounded    secured    seats   upon    tlie    gun    caissons. 


44 


LIBEAEY    OF    TEIBL-^'E    EXTRAS. 


Others  were  borne  off  the  neld  upon  the  backs 
or  in.  the  arms  of  comxadea.  Some  limped  along 
after  the  retreating  column  as  best  they  could, 
some  of  them  succeeding  in  reaclung  camp,  while 
the  remainder  either  died  by  the  way  or  were 
captured,  by  the  enemy. 

When  it  was  found  that  the  wounded  must  be 
left  upon  the  field,  Dr  Devendorf,  surgeon  of  the 
48th  New-York,  and  Piivate  Gilsoe,  of  the  same 
legiment,  voluntarily  remained  with  them  to  look 
after  their  wounds  and  help  them  so  far  as 
possible. 

The  defeated  and  exhausted  array  arrived  at 
barber's  about  2  o'clock  next  morning,  having 
marched  thirty-six  miles  and  fought  the  enemy 
three  hours  since  the  pre^-ious  morning.  AfteV 
a  few  hours'  rest,  the  retreat  was  resumed,  and 
continued  untU  Jacksonville  was  reached,  Feb- 
ruary 25.  On  the  way  back  a  large  'luantity 
of  provisions  and  stores,  whose  value  was  esti- 
mated to  be  at  least  $1,000,000,  was  burned  to 
prevent  falling  into  the  enemy's  possession.  Thus 
ended  the  Florida  expedition. 

REPORTED  DEAD. 

Corporal  Thomas  Groser,  the  story  of  whose 
experiences,  beginning  vrith  the  battle  of  01  us- 
tee,  it  is  now  proposed  to  relate,  was  a  member 
of  Company  C,  48th  N.  Y.  Infantry,  and  also 
a  cousin  and  comrade  of  th?  writer. 

While  the  contest  amid  the  pines  was  going  on 
Tom  was  shot  tiu-ough  the  body,  the  "ball,  as 
■was  afterward  learned,  entering  the  right  breast, 
passing  through  the  lungs  and  out  at  the  back. 
A  moan  behiud  called  my  attention  to  Tom,  of 
whose    proximity    untU    then    I    was    unaware. 

-•■Are  you  hit,  Tom?"  I  asked. 

His  reply  was  a  slight  inclination  of  the  head 
as  lie  moved  his  hand  to  his  breast.  iMany  other 
comrades  had  already  fallen  around  me,  but  this 
wounding  of  one  who  wa.s  almost  a  brother,  with 
whom  I  ha4  played  and  laeen  associated  from 
earliest  childhood,  my  nearest  and  dearest  com- 
rade, with  whom  I  shared  the  same  blanket  at 
night,  was  a  deep  shock  and  caused  me  to  realize 
more  sharply  than  ever  before  the  meaning  of 
war.  With  very  little  hope  of  success  I  en- 
deavored to  get  permission  to  attend  to  Tom 
in  his  time  of  need,  and,  as  I  anticipated,  was 
refused.  Orders  from  the  commanding  general 
were  strict  and  peremptory,  that  no  man  while 
in  action  was  to  leave  the  works  unless  wounded. 
The  ambulance  corps  was  expected  to  come  for 
all  who  needed  help.  Tom  had  to  make  his  way 
to  the  rear  unaided,  and  I  lost  sight  of  him  a 
little  later,  as  I  feared  forever.  By  inquiry  af- 
terward I  learned  from  various  sources  that  dur- 
ing the  battle  and  up  to  the  time  of  the  re- 
treat he  had  been  seen  by  one  or  another,  who 
either  thought  him  dying  or  hopelessly  wounded. 
TEe  thought  of  Tom,  a  prisoner  and  dyina-.  far 
from  friends  and  home,  gave  additional  bitter- 
ness to  that  eventful  night  march  back  from 
Clustee.  It  was  a  cruel  piece  of  news  to  send 
to  a  father  concerning  his   firstborn. 

Notwithstandin2  the  slight  ground  for  hop?,  the 
father  and  his  friends  still  hoped  for  more  favor- 
able news,  but  about  a  month  later  a  communica- 
tion   w::s    received    from    the    Confederate    com- 


mander in  Florida.  This  gave  a  classified  list  of 
prisoners  hell  in  tliat  region  by  the  Confederates, 
specifj-ing  those  who  weie  sound,  those  who  were 
sick  or  wounded,  and  those  who  had  died,  with 
date,  place  and  cau«  of  death.  Among  the  lat- 
ter occurred  the  name  of  Corporal  Thomas  Groser, 
who  was  reported  to  have  died  at  Lake  City  on 
a  given  date,  from  a  gunshot  wound  through  the 
right  breast. 

SAVED  BY  TEXDER  SOUTHERX  WOMEN. 
Eetiurning  now  to  the  battlefield,  let  us  see  what 
Tom's  fate  really  was.  Through  the  efforts  of 
Surgeon  Devendorf  and  Private  Gilsoe,  who  had 
so  nobly  remained  upon  the  field,  many  of  the 
wounded,  including  Tom,  were  brought  together. 
Fires  were  built,  and,  so  far  as  possible,  wounds 
were  attended  to,  and  everything  done  to  make 
the  unfortunates  comfortable.  Throughout  the 
long  night  and  until  the  following  afternoon  they 
remained,  when  they  were  removed  to  the  rail- 
road and  thence  to  Lake  City,  and  placed  in  so- 
caUed  "hospitals."  These  were  barns  affurding 
little  else  than  shelter  and  strav.-  for,  not  aU,  but 
a  part,  of  the  men  to  lie  upon,  and  were,  per- 
haps, all  the  aecommodations  that  could  be  looked 
for  from  the  authorities.  Quite  a  number  of  the 
lady  reside.nts  of  Lake  City,  however,  by  their 
humane  kindness  and  devoted  treatment  did  noble 
and  effective  ser^"ice  in  alleviating  suffering  and 
saving  life,  placing  the  recipients  of  their  good 
deeds  under  lifelong  ofcligationa 

Soon  after  Tom's  introduction  to  hospital 
two  of  these  noble  women,  ^Mrs.  Young  and  M^s. 
Teasdale,  found  him  helpless  and  in  a  critical 
condition.  Their  sympathies  were  aroused,  and 
while  he  remained  there  they  took  an  especial 
interest  in  him,  bringing  palatable  and  nutritious 
food  and  many  other  supplies  for  his  comfort 
and  benefit. 

After  a  while  he  wbs  removed  to  the  Fifth 
Ward,  about  a  mile  away,  where  he  again  found 
friends.  One  of  them.  Miss  Hancock,  was  par- 
ticularly devoted.  Perhaps  because  of  his  re- 
moval, his  condition  soon  reached  its  most  critical 
stage.  To  the  faithful  and  skilful  nursing  of 
Miss  Hancock  was  it  specially  due  ihat  he  came 
through  alive.  To  her,  as  Tom  said,  he  owed  his 
lite. 

Later  on  he  was  again  moved,  to  the  Third 
Ward,  or  "Yank's  Hospital."  as  it  was  commonly 
called.  This  was  near  Mrs.  Young's  home,  and 
here  he  received  many  kind  attentions  from 
that  lady.  He  also  found  another  excellent 
friend  in  Mrs.  Duvall,  whose  resid.?nce  was  next 
to  the  hospital.  Miss  Hancock  stUl  continued 
faithful  in  her  ministrations,  ^^siting  l.im  almost 
daily,    although    Kving    quite    a    distance   away. 

A  genial  climate  and  season,  and,  above  and 
beyond  all,  the  inestimable  Jiindness  and  devotion 
of  these  warm-hearted  and  tender  women,  enabled 
Tom,  after  two  and  a  half  months'  confinement, 
to  leave  his  bed  a  convalescent. 

For  a  brief  time  now  he  became  a  guest  in 
Mrs.  Young's  house,  where  he  spent  many  pleasant 
hours  while  gaining  back  some  degree  of  healtb 
and  strength.  All  too  soon,  however,  this  came 
to  an  end  by  order  of  the  authorities,   and  Tom 


TEUE    STOEIES    OF    THE    WAE    TOll    THE    UNION. 


45 


realized  more  fully  than  he  had  before  that  he 
was   a  prisoner. 

PrisMjn  life  in  this  locality  does  not 
appear  to  have  been  cbaracterized  by 
the  brutality  and  inhumanity  which 
were  such  marked  features  in  so  many  of  the 
Confederate  prisons.  Still,  it  was  rjuite  differ- 
ent from  liberty:  and  so  Tom,  believing  his 
chances  of  exchang^e  would  be  better  the  further 
North  he  went,  had  expressed  a  desire  to  be 
sent  in  that  direction.  Most  unhappUj-  for  him, 
as  he  afterward  found,  the  desire  was  soon 
gratified. 

Karly  in  Maj-  himself  and  a  comrade  nametl 
Parker  were  sent  away  under  guard,  little  real- 
izing >vhat  was  in  store  for  them.  Tom  had  an 
old  silver  watch,  which  he  had  been  able  thus 
far  to  retain,  and  which  had  cost  originally  >!i:?. 
Just  before  leaving  Lake  City  he  sold  this  for 
$225,  Confederate  money.  With  a  portion  of 
this  sum  he  purchased  a  stock  of  provisions, 
among  which  were  two  dozen  eggs  at  85  per 
dozen.  Faithful  Miss  Hancock's  parting  gift 
was  a  .wel3»-filled  haversack  of  edibles. 

Ite  now  parted  from  those  who  had  so  unmistak- 
ably proved  themselves  true  friends  to  him  in  time 
of  need ;  who  had  found  the  Northern  boy,  far 
from  home  and  friends,  sick  unto  death  and  in 
prison,  and  had  faithfully  ministered  unto  Jiim 
\MiLle  life  coi:tinued  he  could  never  cease  to 
hold  them  in  most  grateful  remembrance. 

THROUGH    THE     •'  GATES    OF    HELL,.'' 

Tlie  journey  northward  terminated  at  Anderson- 
\ille.  A.=;  he  passed  through  its  yawning  death- 
way  he  received  as  his  first  salutation,  "  Hello, 
Grover !  Yer  going  to  take  up  yer  quarters  in  the 
Bull  Pen.  are  yer.'"  The  greeting  came  from  a 
comrade  of  his  own  company  and  regiment  named 
Davis,  who  had  also  been  captured  at  Olustee, 
who  with  more  truth  then  kindness  added,  as 
Tom  passed  inside,  "  Ilie  gates  of  hell  have  closed 
upon  you.  I've  been  in  a  good  many  bad  boxes 
during  my  life,  but  in  nothing  to  equd  this." 
Confirmation  of  these  disheartening  statements 
came  swiftly  in  the  gaunt,  hoUow-ej'ed,  ragged  and 
squalid  men  whom  he  found  within  that  fatal  in- 
closure,  a  ni-mber  of  tliem  his  ovra  comrades 
captured  at  "V\"a3ner  and  Olustee. 

The  horrors  and  inhumanities  of  Ander8on"ille 
and  other  Confederate  prisons  have  eo  often  been 
told  that  I  shall  not  here  repeat  them  in  detail 
In  common  with  its  many  thousands,  Tom  had 
his  full  share  of  those  awful  exiieriences.  Siiiv- 
ering,  unpheltered  through  the  night  and  the 
cold,  pelting  storm,  burned  In  the  shadeless  sun, 
hungry  often  and  continuously,  using  sometimes 
to  appease  his  hunger  what  would  be  refused  b5j 
dogs,  scantily  clothed,  doomed  to  see  most  of  his 
comrades  die  around  him  from  starvation  or 
disease  engendei-ed  by  their  cruel  situation,  he 
became  himself  a  victim  of  scurvy,  his  body 
breaking  out  with  sores  and  his  teeth  nearly  drop- 
ping from  their  gums.  He  saw  the  dead  stripped 
of  their  scanty  rags  and  carelessly  thro^vn  into 
a  pile,  the  bodies  lying  sometimes  for  days  un- 
covered and  changing.  He  realized  the  nearness 
of  a  similar  fale  for  himself.     He  saw  the  infamous 


Wurz  with  fo!:l  and  blaspJiemous  epithets  insult 
and  kick  the  sick  and  helpless.  All  these  and 
other  experiences  were  his— some  of  them  almost- 
incredible    and  scarcely  fit  for  relation. 

A    TERRIBLE    DISAPPOIXTMEXT. 

Like  others  tihere  he  made  several  attempts  to 
escape  hy  tunnelling,  but  his  last  venture  of  this 
kind  was  the  only  one  which  came  near  success. 
All  others  failed  through  premature  discovery  of 
the  tunnels,  which  had  either  passed  too  near  the 
surface  or  terminated  too  near  the  outer  line  of 
the  stockade.  The  authorities  were  hunting  for 
these  underground  passages  from  day  to  day  by 
stamping  upon  the  ground  near  the  stockade  and 
probing  it  with  ramrods. 

Profiting  by  the  experience  gained  in  former  nn- 
succe.ss,ful  attempts,  a  party  of  a  dozen,  including^ 
Tom,  began  another  tunnel,  determined  that  this 
time  they  would  have  it  both  deep  enough  and 
long   enough    to   escape   the   Eebel   ramrods,    the 
stamping   and   the   sentries.     Some   of  the  party 
had  a  sort  of  tent  near  the  Deadline,  and  here 
operations  began  by  going  straight  downward  as- 
much    as    twenty    feet,    and    then    horizontblly 
toward    the    outer   world.     The    only   implements- 
available   were   tin    cups,   a   large  tin    pan  with 
two  long  strings  attached  on  opposite  sides,  and  a 
few  bags  and  haversacks.     The  mode  of  operation 
was    as   follows :     One    man   with    cup    in    hand 
would   enter   the   tunnel,   hauling   the   large  pan 
behind.     Scraping  away  the  earth  with  his  cup, 
he  would   fill  the  pan.     A  jerk  would  be  given 
upon    one    of    the    long    strings    leading    to    the 
tunnel's  entrance  as  a  signal  that  the  pan  was^ 
full.     It  was  then  drawn  out,  emptied  into  the 
bags  and  haversacks  of  those  who  were  waiting 
to  receive  it  and  put  back  in  the  tunnel.     Another 
jerk  upon  the  opposite  side  string  would  notify 
the  man  inside  that  the  pan  was  empty,  and  he 
would   haul  it   back   and   refiU   it.     Taking   the 
earth  in   their   haversacks   and   going   in  various 
directions  from  the  tent  the  men  would  scatter  it 
about  camp  in  such  a  manner  as  not  to  l^e  notice- 
able.     Each  memljer  of  the  party  took  his  turn 
in  the  different  parts  of  the  work,  which  could 
only    be    carried    on    during    nights    which    were 
stormy   or  when   there  was  no   moon.     Extreme 
caution  was  necessary,  for  the  guards  were  watch- 
ing sliarply.     Wliile  work  upon  the  tunnel  was 
going  on    each  one  of  the  party  was  saA"iug  from 
his    starvation    rations    a    trifle    toward    making 
up  a  small  store  to  subsist  upon  after  the  hoped 
for  escape. 

"Work  upon  this  tunnel  was  kept  up  for  three 
months,  by  wliich  time  they  had  scraped  out  a 
tunnel  two  feet  wide,  four  feet  liigh  and  seventy- 
five  feet  long.  Tliis  they  estimated  would  bring 
them  about  thirty  feet  beyond  the  outer  Ime  of 
the  stockade,  and  far  enough  from  the  sentries 
(they  hoped)  to  avoid  observation.  Striking  up- 
ward the  work  was  continued  untO  the  surface 
was  reached  one  morning  shortly  before  day- 
break. The  tunnel  was  successfully  completed. 
There  was  nothing  to  prevent  their  passage  through 
it  from  the  horrible  prison  pen  to  the  outer 
world,  and  a  chance  for  ultimate  escape.  Noth- 
ing  except    the   near   approach   of   daylight.     A 


46 


m'.EAEY    or    TEIBUNP]    EXTEAS. 


portion  of  the  party  favored  going  at  once,  but 
after  consultation  it  waa  decided  to  defer  de- 
parture until  the  next  rdght,  and  so  have  the 
advantage  of  several  hours  of  darkness,  under 
•cover  of  which  they  hoped  to  get  well  away  from 
the  region  of  the  prison.  The  outlet  was  filled 
up  with  brush,  leaves,  etc.,  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  prevent  observation,  and  the  party  returned 
to  pass  another  long  day  of  mingled  misery, 
anxiety  and  hope.  Darkness  came  at  last  with- 
out discovery. 

Taking  their  small  stock  of  provisions,  the 
party  entered  the  tunnel  in  single  file,  having 
arranged  with  comrades  who  were,  unable  or  un- 
willing to  make  the  venture  to  close  up  the  out- 
let in  the  event  of  a  successful  escape,  which 
would  keep  the  tunnel  from  the  knowledge  of  the 
prison  authorities  and  thus  save  the  party  from 
pursuit.  The  end  of  the  tunnel  was  reached. 
The  obstruction  was  removed  and  the  leader 
was  about  to  pass  out  when,  in  the  distance,  he 
heard  the  approach  of  the  Officers  of  the  Day  and 
Guard  making  one  of  their  customary  rounds. 
In  making  these  rounds  their  habit  was  to  pass 
close  to  the  stockade,  as  the  men  well  knew. 
So,  apprehending  little  danger,  word  was  passed 
along  to  keep  quiet  until  the  party  had  passed. 
But  fate  was  against  them.  As  the  officers  ap- 
proached at  a  smart  gallop  the  horse  of  one 
fiwerved  outward  in  such  a  direction  as  to  bring 
him  directly  over  the  outlet,  into  which  he  stum- 
bled. They  were  discovered.  The  two  men  near- 
est were  seized  by  the  officers,  and  the  rest  escaped 
back  to  the  miseries  they  fondly  hoped  had  been 
left  behind.  To  say  it  was  a  bitter  disappointment 
but  faintly  expresses  their  feelings.  To  come  so 
near  success  and  then  fail  through  so  slight  and 
accidental  a  cause :  Xll  their  months  of  labor  and 
anxiety  and  hope  had  come  to  naught.  The 
wretched  prison  life  must  again  be  taken  up  and 
continued  indefinitely. 

SENT  FURXEEH  NOKTH. 

"With  the  month  of  October  came  a  change. 
General  |Sherman's  operations  in  Georgia,  the 
uncertainty  of  the  Confederates  as  to  where  he 
would  strike  next,  and  his  proximity  to  An- 
dersonville  led  them  to  break  up  the  prison  camp 
there.  A  part  of  the  prisoners  were  sent  to 
Plorida,  some  were  sent  to  Alabama,  others  to 
Millen,  Ga.,  and  about  11,000,  including  Tom, 
were  sent  to  Charleston.  Here  the  last  named 
body  were  caanped  two  weeks  outside  the  city 
and  then  removed  to  the  jailyard,  where  for 
another  week  they  were  packed,  as  Tom  said, 
like  pigs  in  a  sty.  As  a  body,  however,  the 
prisoners  while  at  Charleston  fared  better,  so 
far  as  Tom's  experien3e  and  observation  went*  than 
at  any  other  place  after  he  left  Lake  City.  Some 
of  the  people,  and  particularly  the  Sisters  of 
Mercy,  were  strenuous  in  their  efforts  to  aid  the 
prisoners,  bringing  them  food,  tobacco  and  other 
articles  of  either  necessity  or  comfort,  throwing 
them  over  the  walls  and  stockade,  they  being 
eagerly  seized  by  the  unfortunates  inside.  The 
lives  of  many  men  were  saved  by  the  humane 
attentions  of  those  kind  friends.  At  the  end  of 
three  weeks  the  prisoners  were  again  moved  and 


brought  up  to  Florence,  S.  C,  which  was  an 
Andersonville  on  a  smaller  scale.  Tom  character- 
ized the  change  as  "jumping  from  the  frying- 
pan   into  the  fire." 

Here,  among  others,  he  met  Corporal  Henry 
Lang,  of  his  own  company  and  regiment.  Lang 
liad  been  a  political  refugee  from  Hungary,  and 
with  Kossuth  and  others  had  found  a  welcome 
shelter  under  the  Stars  and  Stripes.  In  grati- 
tude for  this  he  had  enlisted  as  a  private  sol- 
dier for  the  defense  of  that  flag,  and  like  Tom, 
had  been  wounded  amd  taken  prisoner  at  Olustee. 

TOM'S  RECOVERY  REPORTED. 

Near  the  close  of  the  year  1864,  after  prolonged 
negotiations  and  delays,  after  starvation,  disease 
and  despair  had  claimed  thousands  of  victims, 
leaving  others  to  linger  on  through  a  miserable 
existence  as  wrecks  and  idiots,  an  agreement  for 
exchange  of  prisoners  was  finally  concluded. 
Those  who  were  left  of  the  long-suffering  victims 
of  a  system  of  treatment  born  of  and  fostered  by 
the  spirit  of  slavery  were  released. 

Corporal  Lang,  who  still  suffered  from  his  wound, 
was  one  of  the  first  to  be  exchanged.  In  com- 
pliance with  a  promise  made  to  Tom,  he  went  to 
the  house  of  the  latter  in  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  and 
gave  to  the  incredulous  family  the  startling  news 
that  he  had  left  Tom  alive,  recovered  from  his 
wound,  in  the  Florence  stockade  only  a  short  tim^ 
before.  It  could  not  be  possible!  There  must 
be  some  mistake!  The  news  which  had  come  to 
them  nearly  a  year  before  of  the  battle,  of  the 
wounding  and  capture  of  Tom,  and  a  little  later 
the  circumstantial  and  explicit  report  of  his  death, 
had  removed  all  hope.  They  had  come  to  regard 
Tom  as  one  they  should  never  look  upon  again. 
But  where  the  heart  inclines  hope  can  easily  be 
renewed.  Lang's  positive  assurances  that  it  was 
their  Tom  whose  messages  he  had  brought,  of 
whom  he  had  been  telling  them,  brought  back  a 
new  feeling  to  their  hearts :  and  Lang  left  them, 
with  a  promise  to  return  a  week  later,  on  cThrist- 
mas  Eve,  when,  meeting  a  full  assemblage  of 
friends,  he  would  give  them  a  full  and  detailed 
account  of  Tom's  experiences,  situation  and 
chances  for  exchange. 

OH,    THE    PITY    OF    IT  1 

Early  in  December,  not  long  after  Lang  had 
been  exchanged,  another  lot  for  exchange  was 
called  for  from  Florence.  Men  in  the  poorest 
physical  condition  mostly  were  selected.  When 
the  lot  was  about  completed  ohe  of  the  number 
was  found  to  be  unable  to  go,  and  Tom  was  called 
to  take  his  place.  Clad  only  in  shirt  and  drawers, 
with  sleeves  rolled  aoove  elbows  and  drawers 
rolled  above  his  knees,  so  that  It  could  more 
plainly  be  seen  he  was  not  too  comfortable  nor  in 
too  good  condition,  he  presented  himself  at  the 
gate,  and  was  passed.  Tlie  two  following  nights 
were  passed  in  the  "vicinity  of  the  stockade,  with- 
out shelter  or  fire,  and  with  but  little  food.  The 
second  night  was  made  additionally  miserable  by 
a  cold  rain.  Nert  morning  the  prisoners  were 
packed  into  freight  cars  so  tightly  as  scarcely  to 
be  able  to  stir.  Tlie  doors  were  closed,  thus 
cutting  off  almost  entirely  the  supply  of  fresh 
air;  and  In  this  condition  they  were  kept  until 


TRUE    STORIES    OF    TTTE    WAR    FOR    THE    UNION. 


4; 


they  readied  the  point  of  emijarkation  the  follow- 
ing morning. 

As  Tom  was  about  to  leave  the  cur  he  saw  at 
his  feet  one  whom  he  supposed  asleep,  and  tried 
to  waken  him ;  but  lie  soon  discovered  that  his 
'somi'ade  was  In  the  sleep  Avhich  knows  no  earthly 
awakening.  A  few  feet  bo\ond  lay  another  in 
the  same  condition.  Fr.rther  investigation  showed 
a  number  of  the  lifeless  forms  of  men  who  had 
perished  from  suffocation  or  exhaustion.  On  the 
threshold  of  life  they  had  met  death.  Home  and 
its  friends,  with  health  and  happiness,  had  ap- 
peared to  them  only  like  a  beautiful  but  distant 
vision  of  heaven,  never  to  be  realized  on  earth 
again. 

Through  a  bitter,  terrible  experience  had  Tom 
realized  the  truth  and  force  of  that  salutation 
which  had  met  him  as  he  passed  inside  that  stock- 
ade at  Andersonv'lle :  "The  gates  of  hell  have 
closed  upon  you."  Now,  as  he  stepped  upon  the 
deck  of  the  Union  steamer  which  was  to  bear  him 
to  Camp  Parole,  Annapolis,  and  saw  the  old  flag 
floating  above,  and  felt  himself  safely  under  its 
protecting  stars  once  more,  with  kind  and  sympa- 
tliizing  hearts  and  hands  ministering  to  his  needs, 
clean,  warmly  clothed,  fed  abundantly  with  whole- 
some food,  with  home  and  friends  soon  to  be 
reached,  it  must  have  appeared  by  contrast  as 
though  the  gates  of  heaven  had  opened  unto 
him. 

CHKISTMAS    EVE    AT    FATHER    GROSER'S. 

Christmas  Eye  jbad  come,  ushering  in  the  most 
joyous  festival  of  the  year.  This  was  the  season 
when  long-parted  loved  ones  gather  and  greet 
each  other  within  the  loved  circle  of  home.  A 
goodly  company  of  Tom's  friends  had  assembled 
at  Father  Groser's  comfoi table  home,  and  Corporal 
Lang  was  expected  as  the  honored  guest  of  the 
evening.  They  were  there  to  meet  him,  and  to 
hear  from  his  lips  the  story  of  Tom's  experiences 
eince  Olustee,  and  \o  discuss  the  prospects  of  Ms 
release  from  that  Southern  prison  pen.  The 
fire  in  the  grate  burned  with  a  brightness  and 
glow  which  warmed  and  cheered  thein  all.  The 
lights,  also,  were  burning  brightly,  illuminating 
all  within  and  streaming  from  the  windows  into 
the  outer  darkness,  making  the  siene  inside  cosey 
and  attractive  to  the  passers  by. 

rresently  a  step  was  heard  at  the  door,  fol- 
lowed shortly  by  a  ring.  "  That  must  be  Lang." 
Emily,  Tom's  youngest  sister,  sprang  to  admit 
him,  but  Lang  had  not  come.  In  his  place  stood 
one  whom,  notwithstanding  his  emaciation  and 
marks  of  suffering  upon  his  features,  she  quickly 
kneAV  to  be  her  brotlier.  Her  arms  were  about 
Lis  neck,  and  joyfully  sho  cried,  "  Oh  I  It's  Tom  I 
It's  Tom  I"  In  an  instant  the  father  was  at  the 
dcor,  the  rest  following.  Looking  long  and 
earnestly,  until  convinced  that  it  was  indeed  his 
own  first-born  boy,  he  seized  him  in  his  arms  and 
bore  him  bodily  up  the  stairway  into  his  own 
chamber,  when,  placing  him  upon  the  bed,  he 
stood  and  looked  upon  him,  with  streaming 
eyes  and  agitated  form,  entirely  overcome  with 
emotion.  Few  were  the  words  spoken  thgn  by 
either.  Their  heai-ts  were  too  full  for  utterance. 
Other  friends  crowded  around,  anxious  to  see  for 


themselves  that  it  was  indeed  Tom,  and  to  share 
in  the  joy  of  his  virtual  rosurrection.  Tears  fell 
from  many  eyes  but  they  were  happy  ones.  The 
son  that  was  lost  was  found.  He  that  was  dead 
was  aUve  again. 

Not  the  least  remarkable  feature  of  this  hap- 
py reunion  was  the  fact  that  it  was  not.  as  would 
naturally  be  supposed,  prearranged.  Corporal 
Lang,  for  some  reason,  could  not  keep  his  a.i>- 
pointment,  while  Tom  had  made  his  way  home* 
from  ICamp  Parole  to  arrive  as  just  related. 

The  morrow  was  indeed  a  "  Merry  Christmas" 
to  this  reunited  family,  and  to  Tom,  fresh  from 
the  horrors  of  Andersouville,  it  must  have  been 
especially  so. 

His  i^hysical  condition  when  exchanged  was 
little  better  than  that  of  a  living  skeleton.  For 
months  after  his  arrival  home  one  of  his  chief 
occupations  was  eating  to  appease  his  ravenous 
appetite  and  replace  the  ilost  flesh. 

AT    REST. 

Tom  was  spared  to  his  friends  many  years,  but 
the  bullet  which  pierced  his  body  at  Olustee  and 
his  subsequent  horrible  prison  experiences  were 
the  ultimate  causes  of  his  death.  He  has  joined 
the  Grand  Army  on  the  further  shore.  His  mortal 
remains  lie  under  the  sod  at  Greenwood,  near 
mother  and  father,  the  former  having  preceded 
him  several  years  before  the  war,  the  latter  fol- 
lowing soon  after  Tom.  It  is  no  small  consolation 
to  Tom's  surviving  friends  to  know  that  he  rests 
with  those  who  were  near  and  dear  to  him,  in- 
stead of  filling  an  unknown  and  lonely,  though 
no  less  honorable,  grave  in  the  far-off  South. 

And  when  the  history  of  the  great  conflict  is 
rounded  out  and  complete,  and  its  significance 
fully  appreciated,  the  descendants  of  Tom's  kin 
(he  never  married),  as  they  join  in  the  annually  re- 
curring' ceremonies  in  remembrance  and  honor  of 
the  savior  of  the  Union,  will  recount  the  story 
here  so  imperfectly  told,  wlule  they  point  with 
love  and  pride  to  the  lowly  mound  lender  which 
rest  the  ashes  of  one  of  the  heroes  of  Andersou- 
ville.—J.  J.  Warner. 


A   VERY   TMELY   ARREST. 

When  the  lines  of  battle  were  near  Corinth, 
Miss.,  hearing  of  a  hospitali  at  some  little  dis- 
tance from  the  town,  I  determined  to  visit  it, 
taking  supplies  and  delicacies  with  me.  Two 
ladies  accompanied  me.  The  driver  of  the  am- 
bulance, who  assumed  to  know  all  about  the 
surrounding  country  and  who  had  a  splendid  team 
of  horses,  drove  us  off  in  (good  style. 

After  we  nad  been  en  roQce  for  some  time  go- 
ing s^t  a  rapid  pace,  I  questioned  the  driver: 
"  Are  you  sure  you  are  on  the  right  road ;  it  eeema 
to  me  we  have  come  a  long  way?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know  the  road  very  well." 

"I  wonder  wha€  those  men  are  running  after," 
remarked  one  of  the  ladies  of  the  company. 

It  did  really  seem  that  men  were  springing  up 
out  of  the  ground.  They  were  running  after  us 
and  waving  tlieir  hands;  but  the  steady,  heavy 
tramp  of  the  feet  of  our  horses  drowned  their 
voices,   and   we   failed   to   hear   the   oft-repeated 


48 


LTBEARY    OF    'IRIJJL'XE    EXTKAS. 


command,    "  Halt '.  "    "  Halt :  "    which    came    from 
every  direction. 

"  Just  look  back :  There  are  a  Jot  of  men  on 
horseback  coming  at  full  speed,"  said  one  of  the 
ladies. 

It  was  only  a  moment  before  the  foremost  rider 
wag  near  us,  and  he  thundered  out  in  tones  I 
shall  never  forget,   "  Halt : " 

Out  driver  reined  in  his  horses.  "Turn  your 
ambulance  bask  as  uuickly  as  you  can,  you  fool ! 
You  are  dri^^ing  right  into  the  enemy's  camp." 

Tlie  driver  whipped  up  his  horses  and  retreated 
at  a  gallop,  but  not  until  the  Confetlerate  shari>- 
shooters  had  begun  to  send  their  bullets  flying 
aftei  the  men  who  had  come  to  our  rescue. 
Some  of  the  missiles  came  dangerously  near  to 
the  little  ambulance  company.  The  cans  and 
bundles  which  had  Ijeen  placed  upon  the  seats 
with  so  much  care  and  held  with  our  outstretched 
hands  now  went  tumbling  into  a  common  heap 
on  the  floor,  and  before  the  race  was  over  two 
of  us  were  down  on  top  of  them.  When  we  were 
at  a  safe  distance?  from  the  enemy,  the  horsemen 
riding  near  us,  a  halt  was  called,  and  we  gathere<l 
ourselves  up  and  tried  to  look  respectable  after 
such  a  rough  and  tttmble  ride. 

A  captain  rode  round  in  front,  and  in  a  tone 
which  made  the  cold  shivers  creep  along  the  spinal 
column,  demanded  ;  '■  Vilio  is  in  charge  of  this 
ambulance  ?  " 

"I  am,"  I  ans^vered  with  all  the  self-composuro 
I  cotild  command  at  that  insti*nt. 

"  And  so  you  were  trying  to  reach  the  lines  of 
the  enemy  -with  supplies  and  this  good  team 
and  a  Union  soldier  ?"' 

"  No,  sir.   I  am  as  loyal  as  any  man  who  wears 

shoulder  straps,  and  I  can  prove  it.     I  was  trying 

to   reach  a  hospital  with  these  supplies   (naming 

the  hospital).     The  driver  thought  he  knew  the 

way,  but  it  seems  he  did  not." 

"  That  is  not  a  likely  story.  That  hosi)ital  is 
not  in  that  direction  at  all,  and  I  overtook  you, 
near  the  enemy's  camp,  more  than  a  mile  beyond 
wherA  we  allow  any  one  to  go.  Why  did  you 
run  past  our  pickets  who  demanded  you  to  halt  ?" 
"  I  did  not  see  any  pickets  or  hear  any  one  call 
'Halt;'  until  you  came  up." 

"You  are  all  under  arrest!  Driver,  you  will 
drive  to  the  headquarters  of  the  commanding 
general. " 

At  thf se  words  my  two  lady  friends  turned  very 
pale,  but  I  laughed,  as  I  was  acquainted  with  the 
commanding  general.  Eemembering  my  pass  from 
the  Secretary  of  War  and  other  important  official 
papers  in  my  possession,  I  said  to  the  captain  who 
rode  alongside  of  the  ambulance:  "Would  it 
make  any  change  in  your  course  if  I  should  show 
you  passes  from  high  officials?  I  have  no  objec- 
tions of  going  to  headquarters,  but  it  is  a  loss  of 
time." 

"No,  madam!  You  are  all  under  arrest.  The 
officers  don't  give  passes  or  send  good  teams  and 
Union  soldiers  to  take  jieople  into  the  rebel  camps. " 
It  was  of  no  use  to  say  anything  more,  for 
the  officer  had  told  the  truth.  In  due  time  we 
reached  headquarters  and  were  ordered  out.  I 
led    the    procession,    clambering    out    over    our 


scattered  supplies  as  Ijest  I  coidd.  Tlie  captairt 
marched  in  beside  me.  The  captain  gave  the- 
military  salute  and  was  about  to  report  that  h© 
had  brought  in  these  people,  captured  while  try- 
ing to  run  the  Union  lines,  but  there  were  several 
officers  there  wlio  knew  me,  wlio  came  foi-ward 
to  sliake  hand.s,  and  the  Gtneral  among  them,  and 
he  was  sileni  •  d. 

"Is  there  anything  J  can  do  for  you  to-day^ 
madam?"  the  General  inquirel  in  his  most  gra- 
cious manner. 

■■  Yes,  General,  there  is.  I  and  this  forlorn 
little  company  whom  I  have  led  and  misled  are^ 
under  arrest  for  a  most  serious  ci  ime.  We  were 
on  the  enemy's  ground  and  were  pusliing  for  the- 
enemy's  camp  at  full  speed,  when  this  gallant 
officer  rode  down  in  the  face  of  the  enemy  and 
rescued  us.    I  want  to  thank  him  before  you  all.'* 

Of  course  further  explanation  was  made  and 
we  were  all  released.  The  ambulance  driver  and 
myself  were  admonished  "  to  make  certain  there- 
after that  we  were  on  the  right  road."  I  shook 
hands  with  the  captain  and  thanked  him,  and 
the  officers  present  congratulated  him,  and  we  all 
left  headquarters  in  high  spirits.— Annie  Witten- 

myer. 

_ ^ . 

"  JI^DIIE. " 


AX     IXCIDEXT      IX      THE      C.\:iPAIGX      AGAIXST 
PETERSBURG- 

Amsterdam,  X.  Y.,  :\rarch  6.— I  do  not  recall 
his  other  name.  He  was  called  "  Jimmie."  How- 
he  ever  became  connected  with  our  regiment  I  am 
unable  to  say.  He  was  only  sixteen  years  of  age 
when  I  first  saw  him,  during  the  "Wilderness"' 
fights.  He  was  on  the  rolls  as  a  drummer,  but 
as  there  was  very  little  use  for  his  drum  during 
those  terrible  days,  and  upon  the  succeeding 
dreary  marches,  intrenchings  and  encounters 
with  the  enemy,  Jimmie  had  been  given  the 
position  of  letter  carrier.  A  slight,  but  rosy  com- 
plexioned  Irish  lad,  with  blond  hair  and  blue 
eyes  like  a  girl's,  he  was  a  favorite  with  officers 
and  men,  from  the  ma]or  commanding  down  to 
the  "  coffee  coolers. " 

The  simple  fact  of  liis  being  the  only  -visible 
means  of  communication  with  the  loved  ones  at 
home  would  of  itself  have  made  Jimmie  an  ob- 
ject of  interest  to  all,  as  well  as  of  tenderest  re- 
gard. But  he  was  a  boy  of  exceeding  manliness 
of  character.  He  was  absolutely  and  at  all  times 
truthful  and  reliable.  The  men  made  him  their 
banker  and  the  custodian  of  many  little  secrets, 
and  no  trust  was  ever  betrayed.  It  was  astonish- 
ing what  judgment  and  tact  the  lad  would  often 
display. 

Tlie  one  thing  which  fretted  him,  however,  was 
that  he  could  not  get  to  the  front  with  the  otSer 
men.  He  did  not  at  all  relish  the  idea  of 
being  a  non-combatant.  Had  he  remained  con- 
tent with  the  discharge  of  his  less  illustrious  but, 
in  our  eyes,  the  equally  honorable  and  important 
duty  of  post-boy,  this  story  would  never  have 
been  written ;  but,  slight  and  youthful  as  he  was, 
he  was  possessed  to  carry  a  musket,  march  in  lh6 


TRUE    STORIES    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    THE    U-\T:jX. 


40 


ranlts  with  the  rest  of  the  men— in  short,  to  be 
a  soldier.  Of  course,  that  was  out  of  the  question- 
One  evening  he  came  into  camp  carrring  his  mail- 
bag  as  usual,  and  o"ver  his  right  shoulder  a  hancl- 
sbme  rifle,  which  he  had  picked  up  on  the  waj-, 
probably  the  hapless  jettison  of  some  fleeing 
Confederate.  In  those  daj-s  it  was  not  an  un- 
common thing  io  find  derelict  articles  of  per- 
sonal property  which  had  become  too  cumbersome 
for  comforr.  and  had  >)een  unceremoniously  discard- 
ed. These,  however,  were  usually  clothing,  blank- 
ets or  cooking  utensils  ;  seldom  anythtn?  of  particu- 
lar value.  Xoi  ody  appeared  to  question  or  disturb 
Jimmie's  possession  of  the  firearm,  and  having 
after  some  little  trouble  obtained  suitable  cart- 
ridges, he  soon  became  quite  an  expert  in  the  use 
of  the  gun.  Tlienceforth,  on  the  march  or  in 
camp,  the  rifle  was  his  constant  companion. 

At  length,   after  the  celebrated   "flank  move- 
ment" down  through  Virginia,  the  army  reached 
the  James   River    in  Jun^^   18«4.     So  completely 
were  we  cjchausted  by  the  constant  marching  and 
fighting,  most  of  the  time  with  scarcely  enough 
"hard  tack''  to  sustain  strength,  that  in  crossing 
the  river  in  the  night  many  of  the  men  who  couU 
not  find  a  place  on  the  boat   to  lie   do-^Ti  slept 
soundly   while  standing  upright  on  their  feet,  not 
realizing  it  until  the  stream  was  crossed  and  they 
began  to   disembark.     The   next  day    there  was 
more    hot    work,    skirmisMng    and     intrenching. 
"We  were  nearing  the  citadel  of  the  Confederacy, 
and  every  inch  of  the  way  was  being  contested. 
The  utmost  vigilance  was  required.     We  had  to 
be  constantly  on  the  lookout  for  surprL>es.  Extra 
precautions    were   ordered    on   the     picket    lines. 
Thev  were  strengthened  at  all  points,  and  any  man 
found  asleep  on  picket  was  to  be  shot  instantly. 
I  had  been  away  for  two  daj's  on  special  de- 
tail,  and   on   my  return  was  made  ofiicer  of  the 
guard   for  the  next   twenty-four  hours.        At  so 
critic  il  a  moment    it  was  felt  that  any  faithless- 
ness or  neglect  on  the  part  of  a  single  man  on 
picket    might  imperil   the  entire  front.        I  had 
four  sergeants  and  eight  corporal.-  under  me.     The 
men  on  post  were  stationed  at  intervals  of  about 
150  feet  apart,  while  my  post  was  in  the  rear  of 
the  centre  of  the  entire  line  which   covered  the 
front    of    our    brigade.         On    the    extreme    left 
were  posted  the  men  of  my  regiment ;  then  came 
those    of    two    '  ither    New-York    regiments ;    and 
last  the  pickets  of  a  Massachusetts  regiment.     I 
decided  to  make  a  tour  of  the  entire  line  every 
two  hours. 

I  had  already  made  my  first  round,  returned  to 
my  post,  made  a  cup  of  coffee  and  smoked  a 
pipe.  Those  were  the  moments  when  we  soldiers 
at  the  front  felt  that  longing  for  home  creep 
into  our  hearts.  Presently  I  looked  at  my  watch 
and  it  was  a  few  minutes  of  9.  I  buckled  on 
my  sword  and  very  soon  was  at  the  first  Massi- 
chusetts  post. 

Bear  in  mind  that  tne  men  who  had  been  de- 
tailed for  picket  this  night,  like  the  rest  of  their 
comrades,  had  been  vouchsafed  scarcely  a  wink  of 
sleep  for  several  nights.  It  was  almost  more  than 
weak  human  nature  could  bear.  I  more  than  ex- 
pected to  find  that  it  had  yielded ;  and  mj"  orders 


were  peremptory  to  shoot  any  man  found  asleep. 
Nevertheless  as  I  passed  each  post  in  succession 
I  found  every  man  alert  and  attentive. 

Presently    I  reached  the  vicinity  of  my   own 
regiment.     I  found  the  sergeant  of  the  guard  and 
received  his  report  and  passed  on.     I  shall  never 
forget    that    hour.     It   was    a    Southern    summer 
night.     The  rdr  was  charged  with  the  balmy  odor 
peculiar  to  that  clime.     There  was  not  a  breath 
of  it  stirring,  and  not  a  sound  of  any  character, 
except   the   occasional    screech    or   chirp   of   &f)me 
bird  of  the  night.     The  men  arose  to  their  f?et 
and    saluted   in   silence    as   I   passed.     As   I   ap- 
proached one  post    I  noticed  that  the  man  made 
no    movement.     Coming   nearer    still,    I    observed 
that  he  waa  in   the  familiar  sitting  posture,  his 
musket  between  his  knees,  about  which  his  arms 
were  clasped,    and    his    head     bent    over    them. 
Instantly  I  reahzed  that  he  was  asleep.     My  hand 
felt  for  mj-  revolver,  and  I  was  about  to  use  it, 
feeling  as  a  murderer  might  be  supposed  to  feel, 
remembering  my  orders,  but  something  in  me  re- 
volted   at    the   thought    of   killing    that    slpcping 
boy,  for  it  did  not  take  me  long  to  see  that  il  was 
.Timmie.      I  shook  him    savagely  enough.      '^  "UTiat 
in  God's  name  are  you  doing  here?"  I  demanded. 
He  was  awake  instantly,   doubtless  realizing  his 
peril.     "  I  was   asleep   before  I  knew. "     He  did 
not  attempt  to  say  more.     His  face  was  now  very 
pale    as  he  rose  to  his  feet. 

"You  know  the  order,  Jimmie,"  I  said;  "but 
Tm  not  going  to  shoot  you.  Wlio  sent  you  oai 
here   anyway  ?  " 

"I  got  the  Adjutant  to  let  me  come  out  with 
the  rest  of  the  men  for  picket,*'  he  replied. 

I  told  him  to  remain  where  he  was,  and  I 
called  the  corporal  of  the  guard.  "Relieve  him,'' 
I  said  to  the  corporal,  "  and  don't  put  him  on 
again  to-night.  He  ought  not  to  have  been  al- 
lowed to  come."' 

The  next  day  occurred  the  terrible  engagement 
of  the  16th  of  June.  Near  the  close  of  the  day  I 
received  a  slight  flesh  wound  not  at  all  serious  'n 
itself,  but,  with  the  utter  e.xhaustion  which  had 
come  to  me,  it  was  sufficient  to  knock  me  out. 
I  was  obliged  to  go  to  the  rear.  I  foimd  my  way 
to  the  field  hospital,  which  had  been  established 
in  a  deserted  farmhouse,  and  which  was  the  scene 
cf  more  horrors  than  imagination  could  paint. 
The  night  which  followed  would  have  required 
the  pen  of  a  Dante  '*r  the  brush  of  a  Hogarth  to 
IKrtray  in  fitting  expression.  My  own  condition 
Tiras  not  so  serious  but  that  I  could  fully  take 
in  the  surroundings.  Outside  the  house  a  dozen 
surgeons  were  at  work  amputating  arms  and 
legs  and  engaged  in  other  surgical  operations. 
The  sufferers,  stret-ched  on  rudely  improvised 
tables,  rent  the  air  with  gro.ins  and  shrieks  and 
cui-ses.  A  full  moon  was  sailing  calmly  in  the 
heavens,  in  striking  contrast  with  the  blood- 
curdling secenes  of  which  she  was  a  spectat'Or. 
Wi«^hin  the  house  were  the  worst  cases,  lying  upon 
the  stretchers  upon  which  they  had  been  borne 
from  the  Geld  of  battle.  I  looked  about  to  see 
if  any  of  our  own  boys  were  among  them.  Two 
of  the  ladies  of  that  celebrated  organization  which 
did  so  much  in  those  days  to  temper  the  suffer- 


50 


LLBEAEY    OF    TEIBUA^E    EXTRAS. 


ings  of  the  sick  and  wounded  soldiers,  who  had 
]eft  home  and  comfort  behind,  to  aid  in  caring 
for  tiiose  who  were  wounded  in  battle,  were  at 
that  moment  bending  over  the  prostrate  figure  of 
some  poor  fellow  who  was  neai'ing  "  that  shining 
shore"  of  wliich  tbey  were  singing,  one  of  them 
with  lier  hand  wiping  the  death  damp  from  mouth 
and  face.  Even  as  they  sang,  his  soul  passed 
away,  and  our  young  Adjutant  \yho  had  been  so 
bright  and  jolly  in  the  morning  had  gone  forever. 
With  moistened  eyes  I  turned  away,  and  was 
about  to  pass  out  of  the  building  when  a  faint 
call  arrested  me. 

I  turned ;  and  there  on  my  right,  a  few  feet 
away,  lay  Jimmie.  He  too  was  dying.  As  I 
gazed  down  into  his  boyish  face,  now  pale  and 
pinched  witli  suffering,  there  came  into  his  e.ves 
a  look  which  I  quickly  translated.  It  s<jemed 
to  say  tliat  he  felt  he  had  redeemed  himself. 

'•My  poor  Jimmie,"  I  said,  "how  did  yoa  get 
hurt?" 

"I  couldn't  help  it.  Lieutenant,"  he  said,  as  I 
bent  down  to  catch  his  words.  "  I  couldn't  stay 
in  the  rear  when  all  the  othei'  boys  were  in  the 
fight." 

He  indicated  with  a  glance  where  he  was  in- 
jured. I  raised  up  the  covering.  His  right  arm 
was  gone  almost  to  the  socket. 

They  just  brought  me  here,"  he  continued.  "  I 
know  I've  got  to  die,  but  I'd  rather  die  this  way 
than  that  other. "  There  was  a  look  of  triumph 
in  his  eyes.  I  hurried  away  to  find  the  ladies, 
realizing  that  death  had  already  affixed  its  seal 
on  the  little  hero's  brow.  lie  seemed  to  be  past 
euflering. 

"I  will  be  right  back,  Jimmie,"  I  said,  as  I 
left  him ;  but  when  we  had  i-eturned  to  liis 
stretcher  the  life  of  the  brave  little  soldier  had 
vanished. 

After  I  had  hurriedly  recounted  the  main  inci- 
dents of  this  little  story  to  tlie  ladies,  they  prom- 
ised to  take  charge  of  the  remains  and  accord 
all  that  was  left  of  our  "  Jimmie "  the  honors  of 
a  Christian  burial.— lEd.  J.  Maxwell. 


PEOJECIILES   FOR   RIFIxED    CANNON. 

An  interesting  chapter  of  the  war  was  refer- 
red to  in  the  lower  House  of  Congress  March  1. 
Several  Democratic  members,  including  Mr.  Banik- 
head  and  JNIr.  Forney,  tried  to  have  a  bill  passed 
giving  to  Dr.  John  B.  Read  $1';,000  for  royal- 
ties on  projectiles  for  rifled  cannon.  After  de- 
bate the  effort  was  defeated— 102  yeas,  110 
nays,  117  not  voting.  The  following  facts  were 
brought  out  in  debate: 

Tlie  minie  ball  was  tlie  first  expanding  pro- 
jectile for  firearms  of  any  description.  This  ball 
has  a  simple  expanding  base,  without  flanges  or 
projections  to  enter  rifle  grooves,  and  was  used  to 
some  extent  in  the  war  of  the  United  States  with 
Mexico - 

Prior  to  the  year  1856  rifled  ordnance  of  large 
calibre  practically  had  no  existence  in  any 
country.  Dr.  Read's  patent  covers  the  first  in- 
stance of  any  projectile  for  rifled  ordnance,  em- 
plojring  (like  the  minie  ball  for  small  arms)  a 
smooth  expanding  cup  or  sabot  at  the  base,  with- 


out any  dependence  upon  flanges  for  entering  rifle 
grooves  and  thus  securing  rotation. 

In  1856  successful  experiments  with  Dr.  Read's 
projectiles  from  a  24-pounder  rifle  gun  at  Fort- 
reos  Monroe  secured  a  contract  in  writing  with 
the  Secretary  of  War  that  in  case  his  invention 
should  be  adopted  by  the  Governincnt  (used  or 
employed  as  understood  by  Dr.  Read  at  the  time 
of  affixing  his  signature),  he  should  receive  such 
compensation  as  a  board  of  army  officers  might 
decide  to  be  just.  From  1856  tu  the  close  of  1859 
Dr.  Read  made  a  large  number  of  experiments 
Avith  his  rifle  projectiles,  witli  a  sufficient  degree 
of  success  to  show  them  practicable  lor  all  guns 
up  to  ten  inches  calibre. 

During  a  large  portion  of  these  three  years  Dr. 
Read's  experimerts  from  the  water  ba+tery  at 
AVest  Point  and  Fortress  Monroe  constituted 
a  tree  public  school  of  artillery  in  the  then 
novel   subject   of   rifled   ordnance. 

Mr.  R.  P.  Parrot  assisted  in  these  experiments, 
and  he  and  Mr.  Hotehkiss  and  other  inventors 
tlius  secured  at  Dr.  Read's  expense  most  valu- 
able  lessoi^s  in  rifled  ordnance  of  incalculable  im- 
portance to  the  United  States  Government  dur- 
ing the  war,  then  so  near  at  hand.  It  is  alto- 
gether probable  that  but  for  Dr.  Read's  timely 
invention  and  his  active  persistence  in  its  public 
demonstration,  our  war  might  have  been  fought 
out  with  the  old-time  smooth-bore  guns,  and  Its 
duration  much  protracted,  with  far  greater  loss 
of  life   and  limb. 

Dr.  Read  was  the  first  to  propose  copper  as 
the  best  material  for  the  sabots  of  his  rifle 
projectiles,  first  made  at  the  Washington  navy 
yard,  though  he  actually  employed  wrought  iron 
for  this  purpose  to  meet  the  views  of  the  then 
Secretary  of  War,  who  desired  a  projectUe  that 
might  be  fired  red  hot  in  certain  contingencies. 

The  essential  feature  of  Dr.  Read's  improve- 
ments in  rifle  shells  was  the  employment  of 
smooth  sabots  of  hard  metal,  whether  copper, 
wrought  iron  or  brass.  And  as  all  the  rifled 
muskets  emplo.ved  in  our  war  made  use  of  the 
leaden-expanding  ball  of  Captain  Minie,  so  every 
niece  of  rifled  ordnance  on  both  sides  of  thp 
line  fired  projectiles,  with  a  few  partial  ex- 
ceptions, with  the  smooth  expandinsr  hard-metal 
sabots  invented  by  Dr.  Read,  and  publicly  demon- 
strated by  him.  Parrot  a.Tid  Hotehkiss  furnished 
almost  all  the  rifle  shells  employed  during  the 
war  by  tTTe  United  States  Oovemmput.  and  the 
only  patentable  point  in  their  construction  was 
simply  the  manmer  of  attaching  the  hard-metal 
sabots  +hey  emploved :  only  this  and  nothing 
more,  all  the  rest  having  been  learned  from  Dr. 
Read's  original  experiments. 

Admiral  Porter's  statement  as  to  the  safety  of 
the  Read  shells  suggests  fhe  fact  that  so  far  a? 
known  no  rifle  gun  was  ever  burst  by  the  Read 
shf^lls  when  made  strictly  with  safety  groovp  on 
his  plan,  whetTier  with  sabots  of  wrought  iron, 
copper,  or  brass.  At  the  commenceriient  of  our 
war  there  were  absolutely  no  rifle  projectiles  of 
any  df^scription  in  the  United  States  except  those 
■with  iron  cupped  s'ibnts  inA'^ented  by  Dr.  Rf^ad,  and 
manufactured  at  West  Point  foundry  by  Mr.  Par- 
rot. These  Read  projectiles  were  used'  from  Par. 
rot  guns  extensively  at  the  first  battle  of  Bull 
Run  by  the  Federal  Army  (9.^,000  were  used  at 
that  battlf),  and  large  numbers  of  both  projectiles 
and  guns  were  captured  "by  the  Confederate  forces. 
The  first  Read  shells  ever  used  by  the  Confederacy 
were  those  captured  at  Bull  Run,  and  which,  with 
subsequent  captures  elsewhere,  kept  up  more  or 
less  of  a  supply  jf  the  same  till  the  close  of  the 
war.  Parrot,  under  his  contract  with  Read, 
charged  no  royalty  to  our  Government,  and  it  is 
this  unpaid  royalty  that  the  latter  now  seeks  to 
recover. 

When  tlie  war  broke  out  Dr.  Read  went  South, 
joined  the  Confederacy,  and  manufactured  his 
shells  for  them  during  the  war.  On  that  account. 
in  1870,  the  Government  refused  to  renew  his 
patent. 


TRUE    STOEIES    OF    THE     WAK    FOE    THE    UNION. 


ox 


A      THRILLiyCr       EXFERIENCE. 

FATE  OF  THE  CLARAJiELLE. 

ONE   OF  THE   TRIALS    OF   PaVER   XAVI&ATION  IX 
THE    WEST      DURING    THE    WAR. 

Lampasas,  Texa^.-We  had  been  in  camp  just 
back  of  the  town  of  Vicksburg  for  about  a  month, 
making  preparations  for  the  reconstruction  of  the 
Vicksburo-  and  Shreveport  Railroad,  a  portion  of 
which  had,  untn  the  siege  of  Vicksburg,  been  in 
running  order.  Our  regiment,  the  6th  Michigan 
Heavy  Ai-tillery,  had  been  ordered  from  garrison 
duty  at  Port  Hudson,  La.,  to  jSIorganzia,  where, 
after  a  short  stay,  we  were  detached  from  the  19th 
Army  Corps  and  sent  to  Vicksburg  under  General 
Bailey,  of  Red  River  fame. 

Military  changes  were  being  made  in  rapid  suc- 
cession on  account  of  new  movements,  especially 
ihe  one  concentrating  troops  on  Mobile.  On  the 
23d  of  July,  1864,  we  were  ordered  to  the  levee 
to  take  transports  for  ^Vhite  River,  Ai-k.  Six 
companies  of  the  regiment  went  on  board  the  Kate 
Dale,  a  coast  steamer  with  closed  sides,  and  four 
eompanies  on  the  Claral>elle,  an  ordinary  and 
rather  small  open  river  boat.  There  were  also  several 
gunboats,  as  it  was  next  to  impossible  for  trans- 
ports to  pass  up  or  down  without  convoy,  because 
-they  were  exposed  to  the  risk  of  being  fired  into 
by  the  Confederate  batteries. 

We  made  no  stop,  except  at  I\rillilcen's  Bend 
*  for  the  gunboats  to  coal  or  get  some  other  needed 
supplies.  We  found  the  Clarabelle  a  very  slow 
boat,  and  before  night  all  of  our  convoy  had 
gained  so  much  that  they  were  often  lost  to  sight 
around  bends.  Before  it  was  entirely  dark, 
however,  the  other  boats  slackened  speed  and  we 
came  up  abreast.  Orders  had  been  given  the  gun- 
boats to  keep  the  transports  in  sight,  and  con- 
siderable caution  was  used  the  greater  part  of 
the  night.  On  rousing  ourselves  at  daylight,  how- 
ever, not  a  boat  was  in  sight.  At  the  time  the 
fact  created  no  uneasiness.  About  8  o'clock,  or 
a  little  after,  we  reached  Skipwith  Landing,  a 
coaling  and  supply  depot  for  gunboats.  Several 
gunboats  were  lying  there  ready  for  orders.  Tlie 
engines  of  the  Clarabelle  wei-e  stopped  for  a  few 
moments,  and  Captain  Corden,  in  command  of 
our  detacliment,  asked  :  "  How  long  since  our 
consorts  passed  up  ?  " 

"  About  two  hours, "  was  the  answer. 
We  continued  on  our  way.  By  this  time  the 
log,  which  often  hangs  heavy  in  the  morning, 
cleared  away  and  the  sun  shone  brightly.  Every- 
thing seemed  quiet  as  we  slowly  moved  upward. 
Not  far  above  the  landing,  on  the  east  bank,  we 
passed  the  remains  of  a  steamboat,  which  had 
been  accidentally  burnekJ  a  short  time  before, 
several  of  the  passengers  having  been  burned  to 
death. 

Between  nine  and  ten  o'clock  we  reached  thei 
Arkansas  State  line.  Comrade  ElJis  and  myself 
were  standing  on  the  edge  of  the  guard  looking 
out  at  the  west  bank,  talking  on  various  subjects, 
more  especially  of  going  home,  as  our  term  of 
service  would  be  out  in  a  few  days,  when  on  turn- 


ing a  sharp  bend  one  of  us  said :  "  What  a  fine 
chance  for  a  rebel  battery."  The  other  had  not 
time  to  answer  before  the  flash  of  a  cannon 
spouted  out  from  the  bushes  on  the  bank  and  a 
case  shot  burst  almost  in  our  faces.  Several  shots 
came  in  rapid  succession  before  we  collected  our- 
selveis  enough  to  seize  our  rifles  and  hunt  for  shel- 
ter. By  the  time  we  had  found  our  guns,  how- 
ever, every  apparently  secure  place  was  well  oc- 
cupietd.  The  crasli  of  shot  and  shell  seemed  con- 
tinual, and  the  whizzing  of  splinters  as  the  shot 
broke  through  our  boat  was  very  confusing.  The 
engineers  and  firemen  left  their  posts  and  could 
not  be  found,  and  the  pilot  rang  his  bell  for 
landing. 

The  firing  had  come  upon  us  so  suddenly  that 
it  was  several  minutes  before  a  sensible  view  of 
matters  prevailed.  The  groans  and  moans  of  the 
wounded  on  the  upper  deck  could  be  distmctly 
heard  between  the  crashes  of  shot.  The  men 
were  fast  getting  into  position  to  use  their  rifles, 
and  the  noise  of  the  firing  both  wa^s  was  inces- 
sant. 

The  captain  of  the  boat  rushed  up  to  the  pilot 
house  to  change  and  control  the  vessel,  while 
some  of  our  boys  went  to  the  furnace  and  pitched 
in  all  the  inflammable  material  they  could  find. 
Soon  the  boilers  were  straining  and  sizzling  with 
a  surplius  of  steam.  Tlie  engineers  were  hunted 
up,  and  at  the  point  of  the  bayonet  forced  to  stay 
at  their  posts.  The  captain,  after  reaching  the 
pilot  Jioulsei,  turned  th©'  boat's  head  up 
stream  again,  and  a  full  force  of  steam  was  turned 
on.  The  timbers  of  the  frail  river  boat  began  to 
tremble  and  creak  with  increasing  rhotion. 

By  this  time  we  had  received  several  shots 
below  the  water  line  and  water  was  pouring  in 
fast.  We  soon  moved  far  enough  ahead  to  make 
the  enemy's  shots  uncertain,  but  the  water  was 
gaining  so  fast  that  with  all  our  steam  we  were 
making  slower  and  slower  headway.  After  a 
hasty  examination  by  the  carpenter  and  captain 
it  was  found  necessary  to  make  a  landing  as  soon 
as  possible  and  stop  the  holes,  otherwise  we  would 
sink   in   midstream. 

AT   THE  ENEMY'S  MEHCT. 

So  far  only  one  man  had  been  mortally  wounded, 
although  several  others  had  been  more  or  less 
severely  hurt  by  shot  and  splinters.  Our  speed 
diminitehed  so  rapidly  that  we  were  compelled 
to  land  about  two  miles  above  the  point  at  which 
we  had  been  ambuscaded  on  the  opposite  or  east 
side  of  the  river.  As  soon  as  the  boat  was  tied 
fast  the  soldiers  were  taken  off  and  marched 
back  a  slxort  distance  to  the  shade  of  some  scatter- 
ing trees,  where  they  stacked  arms  and  were 
allowed  to  break  ranks,  but  they  were  cautioned 
about  going  too  far  away,  ireanwhile  a  few 
men  were  detached  and  ordered  to  cross  the  bend 
to  Skipwith  Landing  and  notify  the  gunboats. 

Our  baggage,  knapsacks,  mules,  wagons— in 
fact  everything  except  our  guns  and  what  we 
had  on  our  backs— were  left  on  board  the  boat. 
The  captain  and  hands  went  right  to  work  making 
the  necessary  repairs.  A  few  of  us  volunteers 
made  a  little  tour  with  an  eye  to  foraging  while 
the  repairs  were  in  progress,  but  we  were  unsuccess- 


52 


LIBRAKY    OF     lEIBUNE    EXTILVS. 


ful,  and  were  on  our  way  back  to  the  boat  about 
3  p.  m.,  when  we  were  startled  by  the  report  of 
a  cannon.  As  we  were  returning-  close  by  tlio 
bank  of  a  bayou,  we  forced  our  way  through  tlie 
thick  groui^^h  of  cane  and  could  see  tlie  Confed- 
erate battery  working  away  at  tbe  boat,  supported 
by  a  large  force  of  infantry,  who  would  clie«^r 
whenever  a  shot  struck  the  boat.  We  imnieUately 
started  on  the  run  for  the  Clarabelle  so  as  to 
save  our  personal  effects  and  assist  in  whatever 
way  we  could.  Before  we  had  gone  half  tlie 
distance  we  aaw  smoke  and  flames  rising  from 
the  vessel   and   heard   the  enemy   cheering. 

As  we  arrived  on  the  ground  the  scene  was 
heartrendirig  in  the  extreme.  The  horses  and 
mules  were  burning  alive,  and  could  not  now  be 
driven  ofl.',  and  their  cries  were  very  affecting. 
The  flames  iticreased  so  rapidly  that  they  soon  cut 
oiT  commujiication  with  the  lx)at,  although  several 
of  the  men  made  every  effort  to  drive  off  or  into 
the  river  some  of  the  animals.  The  fire  so  be- 
wildered the  poor  things  that  they  rushed  into  it 
as  often  as  away  from  it. 

Surgeon  Mottram  aMd  J.  W.  Nicholls,  of  Com- 
pany E,  had  already  carried  oft"  all  the  wounded 
except  one.  They  had  commenced  when  the 
flames  first  broke  out.  Just  as  they  were  going 
back  for  the  last  man  an  almost  solid  sheet  of 
flame  burst  out  from  the  laJid  side  with  suph 
scorching  iTeat  that  no  human  being  could  pass 
through.  The  last  cries  of  the  animals  were 
swallowed  up  in  the  last  outburst  of  flame,  which 
enveloped  cabin,  pilot-house  and  all,  closi^ug  for 
ever  from  view  the  unfortunate  Clarabelle. 

The  only  wounded  comrade  left,  known  as  the 
"'  r-  f;'^  |>  "  w'lic  •  i>e  was  alwav^;  in  thehalnt 
of  singing,  was  mortally  wounded,  and,  according 
to  the  surgeon,  had  only  a  few  hours  to  live. 
But  how  poor  this  consolation  was  when  his  last 
piercing  cry  was  heard— a  cry  which  still  rings 
in,  our  ears.  The  scene  was  so  affecting  that  for 
a  short  time  all  the  lookers  on  were  stricken 
dumb. 

SAVED  BY   A   GUNBOAT. 

A  consciousness  of  our  desperate  situation  soon 
asserted  itself.  Tlie  Confederate  battery,  after 
continued  cheering  at  their  success,  limbered  up 
and  disappeared,  together  with  their  support.  The 
sun  had  sunk  below  the  horizon  and  it  was 
gradually  growing  darker.  The  officers  were  con- 
sulting as  to  our  next  movement  in  order,  when 
wo  heard  the  sound  of  a  large  cannon  in  the 
distance,  and  soon  saw  a  gunboat  rounding  the 
bend.  It  proved  to  be  the  gunboat  Louisville 
from  Skipwitli  Landing.  On  board  this  vessel  we 
placed  our  sick  and  wounded,  eight,  if  I  remember 
correctly,  one  of  whom  died  afterward,  or  on  the 
way  down. 

Following  the  advice  of  the  officers  of  the 
gunboat,  we  started  out  soon  after  it  was  thor- 
ougiily  dark  to  cross  the  great  bend  to  Skipwith 
Landing,  the  nearest  place  at  which  we  could  get 
supplies  or  transportation.  We  were  guided  by 
several  slaves  who  took  tMs  as  the  first  oppor- 
tunity of  securing  their  freedom.  We  always 
found  the  elaves  true  to  us,  although  in  many 
cases  they  would  not  do  anything  whicli  would 
injure  their  mast-ers. 


Eor  several  hours  we  travelled  among  large- 
plantations,  through  lanes,  as  well  as  big  roads,, 
without  meeting  a  living  tiling.  We  passed  sev- 
eral fine  large  houses,  anu  stopped  to  get  \yater 
at  some  of  them,  but  saw  no  sign  of  life.  The 
gardens  were  closely  imnted  for  anything  eat- 
able, becau.se  we  had  been  "without  food  most  of 
the  day.  An  occasional  squawk  of  a  chicken  or 
squeal  of  a  pig  would  strike  on  our  ears,  but 
it  would  be  so  suddenly  cut  off  that  we  con- 
cluded the  sound  might  have  been  imaginary. 

It  must  have  been  after  12    o'clock  at  night 
when  we  reached  Skipwith  Landing.     We  had  lost 
everything,    and    an    immediate    reiuisition    was 
made  on  the  "  storeship "  for  the  necessary  sup- 
plies.    Several  men  from  each  company  were  de- 
tailed to  go  aboard  and  bring  back  the  food.    The 
gang    plank    was    narrow    and    •^(inpery.    and  in- 
clined upward  to  the  boat,  and  during  the  trans- 
fer  oii^e  man   of   Company   H,   John   Eoberts,   en- 
listed at  New-Orleans,  slipped   oft"  into  the  river 
and  was  never  seen  again.     The.  current  was  very 
swift,   and   we   looked  in   vain  below  to   see   his 
head   rise   to   the  surface.     The  suddenness  with 
which    our    comrade    disappeared    struck   a    chill 
through  those  who  saw  it,  and  we  had  to  submit- 
to  the  fact  that  "  Death  comes  like  a  thief  in  the 
night."     We   lay   at   Skipwith   Landing   for   two 
days,   or   until   the  night  of   the   2  6th.     The  sun 
was  extremely  hot,   and  we  used  all  manner  of 
devices  for  making  shade.       A  large  plantation 
stretched  for   some  distajice  above   and   below   a& 
well  as  back  from  the  river,  so  that  there  were  no 
trees  for  shade.     We  could  not  help  but  feel  that 
the  enemy   had   got  the  T>est  of   us  without  our 
being  able  to  help  ourselves,  and  we  were  anxious 
to  get  to  the  remainder  of  our  ©ommand  as  soon 
as  possible. 

Just  before  night  on  the  26th  the  steamboat 
Leviathan  was  signalled  to  stop,  it  being  the  first 
boat  to  go  up  the  river  since  our  misfortune. 
The  captain  of  the  Leviathan  was  informed  of 
what  had  occurred,  and,  after  consultation  with 
the  naval  officers,  it  was  deemed  best  for  him  to 
wait  until  after  dark  to  proceed.  The  Leviathan 
was  the  largest  boat  on  the  river  at  that  time, 
and  of  great  speed.  About  dark  the  Pauliii:e^ 
Carroll,  another  large  boat,  came  up,  and  was 
signalled  to  land.  The  Carroll  had  one  wheel 
disabled,  and  had  been  making  slow  progress. 
After  dark  the  two  boats  were  lashed  together, 
and  we  were  taken  on  board  the  Leviathan.  Be- 
tween nine  and  ten  o'clock  the  boats  backed  off, 
and,  with  full  head  of  steam,  pushed  forwar.d 
against  the  muddy  current. 

The  officers  of  the  Leviathan  were  very  kind 
and  attentive  to  our  wants,  supplying  hot  coffee 
and  plenty  of  food  as  well  as  comfortable  quarters 
for  sleeping.  There  seemed  to  be  a  quiet  but 
settled  determination  to  go  up  the  river,  eneray 
or  no  enemy.  We  were  not  molested.  In  the 
morning  the  captain  ordered  the  clerk  to  give 
every  man  a  sheet  of  paper  and  envelope  with 
wliicli  to  write  home,  and  my  own  letter  lies 
before  me  as  I  am  writing  this  storv  giving  a 
brief  account  of  our  disaster,  dated  :  "  St.  Joseph, 
Ark.,  July  30,  1864,"  with  the  imprint  on  the 
head  :  "  On  board  the  St.  Louis  and  New-Orleans 
Packet,  iSteamer  Leviathan,  Captain  Ambrose 
Eeeder."— (WUber    H.    Webber. 


TKUE    STOEIES    OP    THE    WAR    FOR    THE    UNION. 


53 


THE 


loTH     NEW-JERSEY 
FliEDERICKSBUEG. 


AT 


MEMORIES    OF    THE    SECOND    ASSAULT. 


&     GALr.AXT    REGIMENT,    XOT    A    MAN    OF    WHOM 
ESCAPED    WOUNDS. 

Biidd's  Lake,  N.  J.— Tlio  last  double  roll  of  the 
drums  and  the  shrill  hi<4h  notes  ot  the  fifes  were 
le-eclioing  o"ver  tlie  hills  near  the  city  of  Fred- 
^'ricksburg,  Va.,  on  or  about  May  1,  1863,  as  the 
anusie  wheeled  into  line  on  the  rig-ht  of  our  regi- 
ment on  dress  parade.  Adjutaint  E.  D.  Halsey 
raised  his  sword  precisely  to  shoulder  and  com- 
maniled  "Attention,  l.")th  Jersey!  Shoulder  arms! 
Present  arms!''  and  turning  on  his  lieel  saluted 
Colonel  William  H.  Penrose,  our  commander,  who 
replied:   "Read  the  orders,  adjutant!"' 

After  facing  about,  our  adjutant  commanded, 
"  Attention  to  orders ! " 

"Headquarters  6th  Army  Corps,  Army  of  the 
Potomac— Everj-  regiment  and  .command  will  be 
ready  to  move  at  early  dawn  on  the  morrow,  with 
sixty  rounds  of  cartridges  and  three  days'  rations 
to  each  man.  First  sergeants  of  companies  will 
see  that  each  man  is  fully  equipped  and  will  be 
held  strictly  responsible  for  their  men  under  them. 

"  By  order  of  John  Sedgwick,  major-general  com- 
manding ;    McMahon,   colonel,   chief -of-statf." 

All  the  other  formalities  of  dress  parade  having 
been  complied  with,  the  regiment  was  sent  back 
to  quarters.  The  men  at  once  began  their  prepara- 
tions, and  all  was  soon  made  ready  for  the  morrow. 
Tlie  men  gathered  in  groups  discussing  the  proba- 
bilities of  the  fight. 

Papsi^g  down  the  street  of  offi,cers  I  met  many 
and  saluted,  and  passing  Captain  Ira  Lindsley',s 
fent,  of  Compiany  C,  I  found  him  standing  in  front, 
seemingly  unusually  pale. 

I  saluted  and  accosted.  "  Wliy,  Captain,  you 
look  unwell!  What  is  the  matter?" 

The  Captain  replied  :  "  Orderly,  I  don't  feel  well, 
but  1  am  not  sick.  I  fet^l  tUJit  our  next  fiuht  will 
be  my  death,  but  I  would  not  be  absent  if  I  could." 

"  Captain,  you  know  life  is  uncertain  anywhere, 
■especially  in  battle.  What  is  the  use  of  meeting 
death  any  soorer  thin  we  liave  to?" 

"I  know.  Sergeant,  your  philosophy  is  common 
#eTise.  Yet  I  am  nnalile  to  shake  off  the  feeling. 
T  tliitik  I  have  written  my  last  letter  to  my  wife 
and  little  ones." 

"  I  hope  you  may  wi'ite  many  and  we  shall  see 
more  peaceful  days  in  our  mountain  homes,  Cap- 
tain." 

Tlie  •Captain  replied  :  "  I  shall  do  my  duty,  but 
I  have  no  hope!" 

"  Well,  Orderly,   you  are  looking  more  solemn 
than  usual,"  remarked  Sergeant  Larrison,  of  my 
•own  company,  as  I  walked  up  our  own  street  among 
the  bo.vs.     "  What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Nothing,  boys,  serious,  I  trust,  only  I  believe 
we  will  have  a  lively  time  on  the  other  side  of  the 
Rappaiiannock  before  many  days." 

Early  morn  came,  and  soon  our  First  Brigade 
was  down  to  Franklin's  Crossing.  The  o[tposite 
filiore  was  taken  by  crossing  ovH'r  on  pontoons.  Some 


of  the  enemy  were  taken  prisoners,  their  reserves 
falling  back.  The  1 5th  N.  J.  was  deployed  on  the 
skirmish  line,  and  drove  the  Johnnies  over  the 
valle.y  until  we  were  ordered  to  halt  for  the  night. 
About  dark  the  rest  of  the  eth  Corps  crossed  the 
river  and  massed  by  divisions  in  our  rear.  The 
night  was  warm,  dark  and  misty,  and  the  enemy's 
sldrmishers  were  not  more  than  400  feet  from  us. 
Our  line  was  formed  by  the  men  lying  Hat  on  the 
ground,  to  see  more  readily  objects  approaching 
us.  There  Avere  men  of  devotion  in  both  armies. 
We  could  hear  our  comrades  in  tlie  rear  of  us  sing- 
ing "Old  Hundred"  and  familiar  church  music, 
and  praying  to  the  God  of  battles  for  protection 
and  success.  We  could  hear  devout  pra.yers  as- 
cending heavenward  in  the  enemy's  camp,  and 
battle  lines  invoking  the  same  God  of  battles  for 
protection  and  success ;  and  as  I  walked  my  com- 
pany line  near  Sergeant  Larrison,  he  said  to  me, 
"  Orderly,  this  must  be  a  very  queer  war,  both  sides 
are  claiming  God  Almighty,  and  I  reckon  lie  is  go- 
ing to  let  us  figiiit  it  out  with  the  force  of  pluck 
and   endurance." 

I  said :  "  John,  one  side  must  be  right  and  th© 
other  wrong." 

"  That's  so, "  says  Larrison.  "  We  know  we  are 
right,  and  the  Johnnies  have  got  more  conceit  than 
wisdom.  I  am  going  to  see  the  end,  and  they 
must  surrender  in  time." 

"All  right,"  said  I.  "Can  you  see  anything 
moving  in  your  front?" 

"  Not  a  thing.  It  is  so  dark  they  will  all  go  to 
sleep,  and  I  feel  like  it  too." 

"No  sleep  to-night  on  this  line,"  I  enjoined  and 
passed  on. 

It  was  the  sleepiest  night  we  ever  experienced 
in  all  our  battles.  I  felt  like  going  to  sleep  walk- 
ing, and  only  kept  wide  awake  b.y  rubbing  my 
forehead  with  water  from  my  canteen.  Each 
man's  head  would  be  bobbing  toward  Ms  rifle, 
which  was  lying  ready  to  raise  and  fire,  when  I 
would  hit  his  foot  or  shake  him.  It  seemed  a  long 
niglit,  but  the  morning  of  May  3,  18tt3,  came,  and 
with  the  glorious  sun  of  this  Sabbath  day  all  na- 
ture  with  the  song  of  birds  seemed  hapi)y. 
THE  6TH   CGKPS   CHARGES. 

In  duo  time  that  day  the  6th  Corps  was  deployed 
to  charge  the  forts  and  heights  around  J'rederieks- 
burg.  The  advance  was  made  slowly  but  surel.y. 
The  enemy's  line  fell  back  on  their  lines  of  battle 
at  the  bavse  of  the  heights,  covered  by  tlie  guns  in 
the  forts.  The  fighting  became  general  from  the 
city  all  around  tlie  hills.  Orders  were  given  for 
our  whole  line  to  charge,  and  v/ith  resoinding 
cheers  and  baj'onets  fixed,  up  Wf>nt  the  6th  Corps 
to  the  summit  and  over  into  the  forts,  takin" 
guns  and  prisoners.  The  Stars  and  Stripes  waved 
where  the  Bars  had  been  recently  planted. 

The  enemy  retreated  in  liaste,  but  finally  re- 
formed in  the  woods  on  the  road  be.yond  St.  Mary's 
Church  for  a  further  determined  fight.  The  l36 
N.  J.  Brigade  took  the  lead  for  a  farther  advance, 
and  the  1st,  2d,  3d  and  4th  Regimenls,  havinpj 
left  the  15t!i  to  be  igatliered  up  by  Colonel  Pen- 
rose from  scattered  duty  and  follow, 
were  soon  marching  at  our  head  in  orderly 
ci)h:mn.     We  jiassed  the  rest  of  our  corps,  halted 


54 


LIBRABY    OF    'lEIBUXE    EXTRAS. 


temporarily  one  side,  and  by  tlie  time  the  1st  be- 
came engageJ  asain,  the  lotlx  N.  J.  was  witliin 
supporting  distance. 

As  our  other  four  regiments  had  been  brought 
to  a  halt  by  the  force  massed  in  front,  we  came 
upon  the  ground  by  the  right  and  left  flank  move- 
ment, in  front  of  the  enemy's  fire.  Colonel  Pen- 
rose commanded  "Halt!  Unsling  knapsacks!"' 
and  the  order  was  executed  promptly,  while  the 
Johnnies  were  looking  on  in  amazement,  \\ithout 
(to  their  honor)  firing  one  shot  at  us.  But  when 
the  Colonel  commanded  "Forward,  guide  centre, 
march  I"  they  opened  fire  and  gracefully  dipped  our 
Stars  and  Stripes  toward  the  ground.  Our  brave 
color-sergeant,  Hicks,  wafi  killed.  OorporaH 
Eeobadeau  caught  tlie  colors,  and  the  colonel  com- 
manded "  Charge  bayonets !  "  On  we  went  over 
fences,  through  the  enemy's  tents,  they  running 
into  the  woods  and  we  after  them,  until  we  were 
80  far  ahead  that  we  had  to  do  tlie  figlitinu  alone. 
Our  Colonel  ordered  us  to  "  halt  and  commence 
firing."  For  two  hours  we  held  that  ground  against 
the  combined  forces  of  the  enemy.  For  twj  hours 
the  peal  of  musketry  was  never  better  executed. 
BLxty  rounds  of  cartridges  liad  bee"n  fired  by  each 
eoldier  who  was  still  li\'ing.  The  cartridge-boxes 
of  the  dead  were  then  sought  and  their  guns  and 
cartridges  used,  as  many  of  the  other  guns  had 
become  fouled  with  powder  and  heated.  Captain 
Btout,  of  our  company,  was  wounded  thro-jgh  the 
right  shoulder.  I  was  struck  on  my  right  shoulder 
and  turned  to  Larrison.  He  said,  "  tliere  is  a  hole 
in  your  coat."  My  arm  hung  useless  from  the 
bruise  of  the  spent  or  glancing  bah.  j\lany  of  our 
comrades  'iay  dead,  and  many  were  wounded.  To- 
ward the  setting  of  tlie  sun  down  went  Larrison 
with  the  blood  gusliing  from  his  head.  I  looked  at 
the  wound.  His  skull  was  hurt.  I  raised  liim  up 
and  started  him  to  the  rear. 

AJPTEB  THE   BATTLE. 

After  sundown  the  colonel  cajne  along  down 
the  line,  and  said,  "  Boys,  you  have  done  glori- 
ously. Orderly,  take  your  men  and  fall  back 
slowly  to  the  knapsacks."  By  this  time  the 
enemy  had  ceased  firing,  but  Private  Berry  said 
he  would  have  another  shot,  and  I  let  liiin  fire. 
The  wounded  of  our  company  we  carried  to  the 
rear,  all  except  one.  Felix  Cash.  We  fell  back 
to  our  knapsacks  without  a  shot  being  fired  after 
us.  Each  took  a  knapsack,  but  inany  were  left 
on  the  ground  tellin^r  their  own  eloquent  story. 
As  the  remainder  of  the  15th  New-Jei-sey  about 
faced  and  marched  from  the  field  in  good  order, 
tlie  little  streams  of  water  we  crossed  were  run- 
ning red  with  blood. 

We  halted  and  faced  in  line  of  battle  in  sup- 
port of  the  11th  Pennsylvania  Bucktails,  who 
had  relieved  us  in  the  front.  We  called  the  roll. 
Many  of  our  comrades  did  not  answer  to  their 
names.  They  were  reported  "killed  or  missing 
in  action."  Captain  Ira  Lindsley  had  been  killed. 
Sergeant  Hicks  had  been  l-;illed :  and  many  others 
of  our  brave  and  noble-hearted  men  had  passed 
the  line  in  death— as  a  sacrifice  for  liberty^ 
Union  and  progress. 

Our  line  of  1  attle  now  extended  from  Frank- 
lin's  Crossing   to    the  point  we   had   gained,   and 


then  to  the  upper  ford  of  the  Rappahannock.. 
We  liad  gained  the  point  of  tlie  angle  of  the 
letter  A.  Tlic  Confederates  had  tried  to  turn 
our  left  liank  during  the  fight ;  but  a  Union, 
battery  had   thrown   them  into   confusion. 

During  the  hottest  exchange  of  bullets,  some 
daring  rebel  had  fired  two  bullets  near  my  head,. 
but  missed  me.  On  account  of  the  smoke  I 
dropped  on  my  right  knee  and  sighted  the  rascal 
under  the  smoke  loading  his  rifle  behind  an  old 
stump.  I  drew  sight  on  him  immediately,  but 
could  only  see  his  right  shoulder.  I  sent  a  bullet 
through  that  an.l  stopped  his   close  range  firing. 

We  had  cut  the  rebel  regiments  all  to  pieces, 
as  one  of  them  afterward  told  me.  Our  wounded 
were  well  attended  to  by  our  surgeons— and 
volunteers  carried  them  back  so  that  they  could 
be  transported   over  the  river  during  the  night. 

THE  SrXDAY  AT  HOME. 
Tlius  did  Sunday,  the  3d  day  of  May,  1863, 
close  on  the  battlefield.  Let  us  for  a  moment, 
this  same  Sunday,  look  into  the  homes  of  the- 
volunteers  of  the  loth  New-Jersey.  In  the  moun- 
tains and  the  hills  of  tlie  counties  of  Sus.sex, 
Warren.  Hunterdon,  Somerset  and  Morris,  wives» 
motliers,  sisters,  betrothed  and  fathers,  brothers 
and  friends,  had  listened  to  many  appeals  to  the 
God  of  battles.  They  thought  of  the  absent- 
ones,  and  feared  the  news  of  battle.  Many  were 
the  secret  jirayers  which  were  oft'ered  that  their 
loved  soldiers  would  be  protected  from  harm ; 
and  many  secret  tears  were  shed,  when  to  their 
minds  the  thought  of  battle  would  picture  their 
lorms,  wounded  and  d.ving  on  the  field  of  car- 
nage, far  from  homes  and  lovable  surroundings. 
The  successful  and  careless  of  the  world  never 
knew  the  pangs  of  sacrifice!  They  never  knew 
the  forlorn  pulsation  of  the  heart  of  Sergeant 
Hicks'  betrotlied  when  the  news  of  his  death 
reached  her !  His  last  letter  was  so  full  of 
hope ;  he  would  soon  be  promoted ;  he  would 
come  home  on  furlough,  and  be  married! 

They  never   knew   the  feeling  of  that  fearful 

presentment  which  the  wife  of  Captain  Ira  Lind- 
sley experienced  on  this  Sunday,  the  3d  day  of 
May,  18(^3.  Hopefully  had  she  listened  to  the 
eloquent  words  from  Divine  Writ,  and  when  she 
gathered  her  little  ones  around  her,  all  wishing- 
"Fa"  to  come  home  from  the  war,  her  heart 
sank  in  fearful  foreboding-s.  Her  devout  prayers 
relieved  her  heav.v  lieart,  and  sleep,  dreamy 
sleep,  closed  her  weeping  eyes. 

Language    has   never    been    able   to    do    justice 

to  the  women,  the  loved  ones,  of  our  Uniorr 
soldiers.  Their  brave  sacrifice  more  than  equalled 
that   of  their  brave  soldiers  who   now   sleep   the- 

sleep  of  the  honored  dead  I 

WE  FALXi  BACK. 

The  Union  forces  have  now  changed  posi'ti.rs 
with  the  Johnnies.  AVe  occupied  the  heights  and 
their  forts,  and  they  would  be  forced  to  attack  us 
from  the  valley.  Tlie  4th  was  a  beautiful  day 
apid  our  6th  Corps  was  fuUv  prepared  to  continue 
the  fight  of  the  3d.  Batteries  were  in  position  for 
defence.  General  Sedgwick  had  sent  to  G(^neral 
Hooker  to  know  if  he  shoull  hold  what  we  had 
gained.     General  Hooker   said  :    "  No  ;   recross  the' 


TRUE    STOEIES    OF    THE    WAE    FOE    THE    UNION. 


55 


river."  But  after  General  Hooker  had  be«?u  de- 
feated at  Cliancellorsville  and  recrossed  his  forces, 
General  Lee  lost  no  time  to  try  to  capture  his 
dreaded  enemy,  the  6tli  Corps.  His  forces  were 
double-quicked  to  our  front,  and  soon  terrible 
figliting  became  general  all  along  our  lines.  Our 
boys  held  the  Johnnies  back  until  after  dark.  Then 
the  men  of  the  6tli  Corps  siloflitly  witlidrew  to  the 
upper  ford  and  covered  their  artillery  by  forming 
a  hollow  square.  All  night  our  guns  aJid  men 
were  engaged  in  crossing  the  rising  Rappahannock, 
and  just  before  daylight  the  15tli  New-Jersey 
brought  up  the  rear  of  our  brigade,  followed  by  the 
skirmish  line,  and  our  pontoons  were  then  taken 
from  the  river.  Our  regiment  filed  into  the  woods 
on  the  top  of  the  hill,  called  the  roll  and  began  to 
put  up  their  little  6-cent  muslin  shelter  tents,  as  it 
was   beginning  to   rain. 

Our  men  were  very  liungry,  and  I  started  to 
report  to  Adjutant  Halsey  to  see  if  our  commissary 
were  near,  when  who  should  I  meet  riding  up  the 
road  but  General  John  Sedgwick  with  some  of  his 
Btaif .  A  young  staff  oflficer  said  :  "  General,  here 
is  a  regiment.  Shall  I  order  it  down  on  picket  by 
the  river?" 

I  saluted  the  General,  and,  returning  the  salute, 
he  said  :  "  Orderly,  what  legiment  is  yours  here  ?" 

I  answered  :  "  This  is  the  1 5th  New-Jersey,  and 
the  First  New-Jersey  Erigade  in  the  rear  part  of 
our  corps." 

The  General  said  '•  Thanli  you,"  and,  turning  to 
his  aid,  said:  "The  Fifteenth  and  the  First  New- 
Jersey  Brigade  has  been  badly  cut  to  pieces  in  the 
fight.  You  go  and  order  some  other  regiment  on 
picket  and  forward  wl^at  headquarters  I  have  up 
here  in  front  of  this  brigade." 

I  soon  found  Adjutant  Halsey.  He  had  been 
struck  by  a  ballet,  but  was  still  at  his  post.  I 
handed  him  my  report  and  inquired  about  hard- 
tack. "Well,  Budd,  we  are  all  terribly  hungry. 
We  will  iiave  to  wait." 

About  noon  some  of  the  wagons  made  an  ap- 
pearance through  the  mud,  and  cracker-boxes  were 
carried  in  a  hurry  to  the  compajiies  and  divided 
up.  The  officers  of  the  brigade  could  not  get  tlieir 
supplies,  so  the  men  of  each  regiment  divided  up 
and  the  officers  enjoyed  the  soldiers'  rations. 

Three  days  it  rained  in  this  very  undesirable 
piece  of  woods,  and  for  three  days  the  comforts  of 
half  rations  were  willingly  divided  without  a  wc-rd 
of  gi-umbling  from  any  soldier  At  last  the  waters 
ceased,  and  once  more  the  bright  sun,  sparlding 
on  the  diamond  drops  falling  from  our  leafy 
canopy,  indicated  that  Nature's  pent  up  precipita- 
tion was  temporarily  relieved.  The  bugles  sounded 
"  Fall  in,"  and  we  were  mo^'ing  through  mud  and 
mortar— splash,  splash,  splash— in  continuation 
toward  our  former  places  of  encampment  below 
Falmouth,  where  we  arrived  about  sunset.  The 
foundations  of  our  winter  quarters  were  in  about 
the  same  condition  as  before,  and  we  filed  into  our 
company  grounds,  stacked  arms,  and  after  roll-call 
made  details  for  guard  duty  and  for  the  bringing 
of  rations.  Some  of  our  men  were  so  hungry  tfiey 
ate  one  day's  ration  at  one  meal,  with  a  quart  of 
good  strong  coffee  as  liquid  stimulant. 
XO     HOSPITAL,    FOK    THJCM. 

By  the  time  our  necessary  work  was  completed 


for  the  night  some  of  our  wounded  put  in  an  ap- 
pearance from  Potomac  Creek  Hospital,  Sergeant 
John  Larriso'i  with  his  head  all  bound  up  ;  "  Will" 
Opdyke  and  others.  I  inquired  why  they  didn't 
stay  at  the  hospital. 

Larrison  said  :  "  Orderly,  the  doctors  took  out 
a  part  of  my  skull  and  put  some  silver  in ;  then  I 
told  them  I  was  going  back  to  my  company.  I 
wouldn't  stay  there.  I  would  rather  fight  every 
day." 

"  Will"  Opdyke  said :  "  I  wouldn't  stay  there 
among  them  with  one  bullet  in  my  arm,"  and  null- 
ing off  his  blouse  a.nd  shoving  up  his  sleeve  he 
showed  where  a  bullet  had  passed  through  di- 
agonally. 

"Boys,"  I  ordered,  "you  go  with  me  at  sick 
call  in  the  morning." 

After  the  fighting  and  fatigue  we  now  had  a 
good  night's  rest.  Reveille  brought  us  out  in 
the  morning.  I  inquired  for  Private  Benjamin 
Wear,  and  found  him  dead  in  his  tent.  He  had 
attended  to  his  duties  to  the  last,  and  now  had 
answered  roll-call  elsewhere.  During  the  fight 
he  turned  to  me,  wounded.  I  pulled  out  of  hia 
face  a  copper-like  tin  which  had  been  around  the 
pm  of  a  bullet  which  had  shattered  the  stock 
of  his  gun.  He  then  turned  to  his  place,  and 
fought  with  us  the  fight  out.  He  died  from  the 
poison  of  the  copper,  I  always  believed;  and  we 
buried  the  brave  soldier  with  the  honors  of  war. 

"  Fall  in  for  sick  call !"  I  sang  out,  as  the  drums 
were  beating  the  call ;  and  I  led  our  wounded  men 
to  the  regimental  hospital  tent,  where  Dr.  George 
R.  Sullivan  was  in  readiness  to  examine  and  mark 
oft'  from  duty.  He  began  the  examinatio.'i  of 
each.  "  Who  sent  your  men  back  ?"  demanded 
the  doctor,  in  a  rage.  "  None  of  you  will  be  fit 
for  duty  in  a  long  time." 

Most  of  the  men  replied :  "  We  wouldn't  stay 
in  such  a  place." 

"  Won't  stay  ?"  said  the  doctor,  in  surprise  :  "  I 
wish  all  the  hospital  soTcIiers  of  the  Army  of  the 
Potomac  had  the  pluete  of  our  boys,  we  would 
have  more  ficrhting  men  and  less  of  the  Gev'eral 
Hospital  service;  many  of  them  are  just  as  able 
to  fight  as  the  best  of  you.  They  w'ill  claim 
equal  honors,  though  they  never  saw  a  fight. 
Well,  I  will  have  to  mark  them  off  from  duty, 
orderly,  and  you  consider  them  off  until  further 
orders." 

A  FIRST  SERGEANT'S   DUTIES. 

The  fighting  qualities  of  an  army  depend  more 
on  First  Sergeants  than  on  Major-Genera  Is,  Colonel 
Penrose  would  say ;  and  I  have  often  thought 
that  Congress  ought  to  brevet,  with  honorable 
distinction,  as  major-goi^erals,  all  the  First  Ser- 
geants who  served  in  the  War  of  the  Great  Re- 
bellion. Their  duties  are  arduous  and  valuable. 
Next  to  duties  in  line,  the  most  painful  of  all  to 
any  First  Sergeant  is  to  write  to  the  friends  of  hia 
dead  and  missing  comrades. 

"Tell  mother,  gently,,  how  I  died.  Tell  myf 
wifJe  of  my  love  for  her,  even  in  death!" 

"Tell  her  in  whisi:)ered  confidence  in  death,  as 

Sergeant was  about  to  die,  how  I  longed  to 

live  for  her,  and  be  married ! " 

"  Tell  sister  I  die  thinking  of  our  happy  yout'.if  ul 
days  I" 


56 


LmEiiLEY  OF  teibunp:  extras. 


'•  Tell  father  I  die  with  my  face  to  the  foe!" 

Tliose  sad  stories  I  wrote,  wishing  I  had  fallen 
instead  of  some  of  my  comrades. 

The  poor  old  mother  answers  with  tears  on  her 
letter  and  wants  to  know,  "  where  my  boy  Benny 
is  buried  ?  " 

The  loved  wife  writes  me,  "  I  am  Itroken 
hearted,  but  J  trust  God  will  take  care  of  me  and 
my  little  ones— crying  for  their  papa." 

Another  expectant  wife  answers,  "  with  thanks 
for  your  kind  letter,"  stained  with  the  watery 
drops  from  her  eyes;  "Oh!  This  cruel  war!"  I 
close  the  letter  sorrowfully,  thinking  "  Yes,  most 
cruel  war;  but  we  must  light  it  out!" 

FKOM   REBEL   PRISONS. 

"  Well  Orderly,  yonder  comes  some  of  our  boys 
from  Eichmond.  I  wonder  if  the.y  have  had  a 
good  time  down  with  the  Johnnies.^"  sings  out 
Jack  Opdyke,  the  happy  mischief  maker.  Sure 
enough,  up  walked  Sergeant  L.  H.  Salmon  and 
others  y/Hxo  had  been  taken  prisoners.  We  wer-e 
all  glad  to  see  them  and  there  was  a  gienerai 
handshaking  went  around.  Buit  Jack  i\vy,s 
anxious  to  learn  about  Eichmond,  and  soon  gut 
a  word  in,  "  Say  Sergeant,  how  did  you  like  Jeff 
Davis's  hotel?" 

"Well  Jack— boys,"  replied  Salmon,  "I  like  it 
60  well  that  if  they  ever  catch  me  tlj,ere  again, 
I'll  be  so  badly  wounded  that  I  can't  fight  any 
longer.  I  wiould  rather  nt)e  shot  dead  than  ever 
surrender  again.  I  am  glad  to  get  back  to  you, 
and  I  will  fight  in  Company  F  and  the  old  15t]i 
Jersey  until  the  rebels  all  surrender." 

"We  will  all  stand  by  you  and  our  Orderly," 
the  boys  shouted,  'aalong  as  any  fighting  is  to  be 
done:"  and  they  kept  their  word  in  every  battle 
to  the  end.  The  few  survivors,  who  were  in 
many  battles  of  the  war,  all  came  home  v/ounded. 
Not  one  was  favored.— Enos  G.  Budd,  let  Sergeant 
Company  F.,    15th  New- Jersey. 

♦ ■ 

THE    24TH   ILLINOIS   AT  STONE   ElVEE. 


WHAT    OKE   MAN   SAW    OF   THE   DISASTERS    AND 

THE   FURIOUS   FIGHTING    OF   THAT 

HlSTOPaC     FIELD. 

Lincoln.  Neb.— Tlie  readers  of  The  Tribune  may 
be  interested  in  what  came  under  my  own  personal 
observation  during  the  blrody  figlit  of  Stone  Eiver 
battlefield. 

Ihe  battle  of  Stone  Eiver,  Tenn..  was  fought  by 
Major-General  Eosecrans,  on  the  Union  side, 
and  by  General  Bragg,  on  the  Confederate  side. 
It  took  place,  if  my  memory  serves  me  right,  on 
the  last  two  days  of  18G'>  and  the  first  three  days 
of  1303.  The  weather  was  wintry  and  it  was 
raining  nearly  all  the  time. 

Our  division  was  commanded  by  General  Rous- 
eeau,  and  our  corp«  by  Major-General  George  H. 
Tliomas.  The  division  was  composed  of  fighters 
from  the  Western  States.  Our  Fourteenth  Corps, 
under  the  leadersliip  of  General  Tliomas,  was  never 
whipped,  and  our  very  name  carried  terror  to  our 
opponents  when  they  discovered  our  presence 
in  tlieir  front.  Our  division  came  from  Nash- 
ville. When  in  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Stone 
Eiv.r,     some    three     miles     from     Jlurfreesboro,. 


we  were  ordered  to  the  left  flank  of  the  battle 
line,  about  5even  miles  to  the  left.  It  appears 
Ironi  what  occurred  afterward  that  we  were 
expected  to  take  care  of  any  Confederate  cavalry 
which  might  attempt  to  cross  the  ford  at  that 
point,  and  v.hose  purpose  would  be  to  destroy 
our  train  of  wagons  loaded  with  ammunition  and 
with  auartermaster's  stores,  these  supplies  being 
of  the  utmost  importance  in  enabling  us  to  make 
a   long   and   hard    fisht. 

However,  the  rebels  did  not  cross  there,  as 
we  wanted  them  to  do ;  they  crossed  somewhere 
else.  While  we  were  eating  breakfast  our  pickets 
were  being  driven  in  in  our  rear.  We  were  imme- 
diately ordered  to  face  about.  We  marched  about 
a  half  mile  when  we  found  ourselves  in  front  of 
a  strong  body  of  dismounted  rebel  cavalr.y,  which 
we  entertained  in  military  fashion  to  the  best 
of  our  ability.  AVe  were  ordered  to  halt  and  be- 
gin firing,  which  we  did ;  and  we  stayed  there 
until  our  friends  had  burned  up  all  of  our 
division  wagon  train  with  ammunition  and  sub- 
sistence. Then  the  rebels  mounted  and  left  us, 
whereupon  we  advanced.  We  found  our  trains 
smouldering  in  ashes,  the  mules  bayonetted,  and 
the  bodies  of  several  Confederates  Lying  scattered 
about  in  the  vicinity.  Scores  of  our  men  then 
came  running  to  us  through  the  timber,  many 
bleeding  and  torn.  They  were  utterly  demoral- 
ized and  came  running  from  all  directions,  all 
telling  the  story  of  the  disaster  which  had  oc- 
curred on  the  riglit  flank  of  Eosecrans's  army  about 
midnight  of  the  preceding  day. 

It  appears  that  a  part  of  Bi-eckinridge's  and 
Folk's  troops  had  made  a  detour  around  the  right 
of  Eosecrans's  army  in  the  night  time,  wMle 
our  men  were  resting  under  their  line  of  stacked 
arms ;  and,  coming  in  from  the  rear,  they  utterly 
routed  nearly  a  whole  division  of  our  troops  before 
they  were  stopped.  They  actually  turned  and 
drove  back  that  wing  of  the  army  until  it  was 
resting  on  the  Nash^'ille  pike  and  in  the  form 
of  a  sciuare.  All  entreaties  would  not  stop 
those  panic-stricken  men,  who  were  going  no 
one   knew  where. 

A  courier  then  arrived  and  we  recei\v?d  orders 
to  repair  to  the  battlefield.  We  Avent  on  the 
double  quick  most  of  the  way.  It  appears  that 
everything  was  ready  for  our  reception.  When 
we  arrived,  we  were  ordered  to  "pile  knapsacks." 
With  us.  all  men  whom  we  thought  unwell,  or 
who  did  not  sometimes  care  about  dying  yet, 
were  always  placed  in  charge  of  the  knapsacks. 
Nine  times  out  of  ten  we  never  saw  them  again 
untU  the  fight  vs-as  well  over  at  any  rate.  We 
made  line  of  battle;  and  the  gallant  General 
Thomas  came  galloping  down  in  front  waving  his 
hat.  "Boys,  your  enemy  is  in  your  immediate 
front  in  large  force!  Drive  them  back  from 
where   they  came    from." 

Our  officers  ordered  "  Load  !  "  and  "  Forward  I  " 
In  a  few  minutes  we  were  beyond  our  pickets, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  more  we  saw  the  magnifi- 
cent spectacle  of  a  portion  of  the  Confederate 
,Ai-7uy  under  Bragg  in  line  of  battle,  with  colors 
flying.  Perhaps  they  saw  us,  in  our  blue,  with 
the  colors  of  "Old   Glory,"  but  we  were  ordered 


TRUE    STOEIES    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    THE    UNION. 


57 


to  "commence  firing"  and  "forward."  Br  this 
time  several  of  bur  batteries  had  opened  upon 
the  advanciusj-  rebel  liosts.  Our  cavalry  and  tliat 
of  the  enemy  became  engaged.  The  din  and  con- 
fusion wei-e  awful.  Loud  orders  were  shouted 
from  many  officers.  There  were  mingl(?<l  groans 
and  cries  from  the  badly  wounded,  who  could 
not  get  back.  The  roar  of  artillery  would  be 
broken  by  a  charge  with  bayonets  from  the  enemy 
and  a  volley  from  us,  when  we  could  see  their 
eyes,  and  then  we  would  charge  and  drive  them. 
Tliey  finally  began  to  give  way  before  the  heroes 
of  the  Western  States:  and  when  sunset  came 
that  afternoon,  altliough  many  a  hero  had  laid 
down  hLs  life  in  order  that  our  Union  should 
exist,  and  many  a  man  had  been  crippled  for  life, 
we  had  straightened   the  line. 

What  was  left  of  our  regiment,  the  gallant 
24th  Illinois,  was  then  ordered  to  dig  entrench- 
ments in  the  front  and  directly  on  the  right  of 
the  vHh}.  We  did  this,  although  no  sooner  had 
they  been  dug  than  they  were  filled  full  of 
water  caused  by  the  incessant  rains.  We  jumped 
in,  however,  because  we  liad  to  keep  ourselves 
under  cover  as  much  as  possible.  We  remained 
in  tliose  trenches  most  of  the  time  for  five  days 
and  nights— and  without  food.  As  I  have  already 
said,  the  wagon  trains  and  rations  had  been 
burned  by  the  enemy  the  first  day  of  the  fight. 

Hunger  became  so  great  in  our  regiment  that  I 
finally  told  the  capt-^in,  wno  was  as  brave  a  man 
as  ever  lived  (his  name  v,-^s  William  Blanke,  Com- 
pany C),  that  I  would  like  permission  to  go  and 
get  something  to  eat.  lie  leplied  that  I  might 
go.  but  not  too  lar,  as  I  might  be  needed.  I 
turned  my  gun,  drove  the  bayonet  into  the  ground 
and  started  toward  a  crowd,  where  I  thought  they 
were  skinning  a  beef.  When  J  arrived  I  disiCovered 
that  the  regiment,  tlie  gallant  2d  Ohio.  Was 
skinning  a  liorse  wliicli  had  been  killed  a  lew 
minutes  before  Ijj-  its  masler,  an  o^Ticer  of  the  2d. 
I  thF-fe  he  was  the  major  of  the  regiment.  Tlie 
horse  had  been  shattered  in  limb  by  a  cannon  ball 
and  its  master  killed  liim.  I  secured  a  piece  of 
the  horse,  and  I  wish  to  say  tliat  it  was  the 
sweetest  meat  I  have  ever  eaten,  before  or  since. 
I  b-gged  a  few  crackers  and  a  little  salt,  and  re- 
turned. I  told  my  partner  if  he  would  make  a 
fire  in  a  depression  somewhere  I  would  get  some 
water  in  the  canteens  and  make  some  soup.  I 
started  down  to  the  river  for  water,  but  as  I 
stooped  down  I  thought  the  whole  rebel  army  had 
fired  upon  me.  I  left  tlie  spot  without  any  cere- 
mony whatever,  returijod  and  waited  uJTtil  night, 
when  some  fresh  troops  came  up  on  our  left  and 
I'ult  fires.  I  went  over  to  them  and  borrowed 
some  water  and  the'n  put  on  my  horse  meat  to 
cook,  witli  the  a.ssistancc  of  a  long  stick,  with 
which  I  held  my  can  over  the  fire.  But  those  who 
had  built  this  fire  to  get  their  suppers  never  used 
it  for  that  purpose.  While  I  was  holding  my  can 
over  the  fire  an  orderly  came  Avith  an  order  for 
that  brigade  to  make  an  attack  on  the  front.  In 
less  than  five  minutes  we  were  engaged  in  fiont. 

The  battle  raged  furiously  right  beliind,  and  my 
own  regiment,  about  200  yards  away,  was  in  it, 
and  Loomis's  Battery;  and  soon  evei'.vtliing  for 
aniles  on  both  sides  was  in  the  fight.     My  meat 


can  was  hit  with  a  bullet  and  the  soup  went  out 
of  it  like  a  shot,  and  my  horse  meat  was  not 
cooked.  As  it  was  a  bad  time  in  which  to  be 
running  around  without  a  gun,  I  hugged  a  good- 
sized  tree  until  hostilities  should  cease  and  then  I 
returned  to  my  command. 

Tlie  next  morning  General  Rosecrans  massed 
everything  on  our  left.  We  then  broke  the  rebel 
line,  turned  their  flank  and  defeated  ai.d  routed 
Bragg's  army.  His  retreat  was  marked  with  dis- 
aster  for   thii'ty  miles. 

I  went  out  on  the  battlefield  and  saw  those  who 
had  met  their  death  from  all  manner  of  wounds. 
One  especially  attracted  my  attentior.  He  was  a 
young  fellow,  about  eighteen  years  of  age,  with 
yellow  hair  and  refined  appearance,  and  wore  a 
gray  uniform.  A  slight  wound  and  blood-stain  on 
his  temple  told  the  story.  I  looked  at  him  a 
moment  and  wondered  if  his  people  would  miss  him 
and  who  he  (was.  His  haversack  was  well  filled. 
Poor  fellow,  he  would  never  miss  it,  and  I  was 
hungry.  Among  other  things  it  contained  an 
article  to  roll  up  and  hold  things  in,  with  small 
pockets  for  pins,  needles,  etc.  There  were  some 
letters  also.  I  placed  them  in  the  breast  of  his 
coat,  but  the  little  housewife  I  took  possession  of 
and  saved.  I  have  it  now,  together  with  a  large 
knife  with  horn  handle. 

In  a  short  time  a  regiment  of  rebels,  each  man 
with  a  cloth  pinned  on  his  arm,  appeared  without 
arms,  with  the  flag  of  truce,  to  bury  tlieir  dead. 
We  laid  our  dead  side  by  side,  wrapped  their 
overcoats  around  their  devoted  forms  a.nd  placed 
them  in  the  trenches,  ne^er  to  awaken  until  all 
are  summoned  to  appear  in  the  great  hereafter. 
—(John  Currie,  Company  C,  24th  Regiment, 
Elinois    YolujUteer    Infantry. 


TWO  CLOSE  C.UJLS. 


AN    rS'CIDENT    OF   THE   CHARJiESTON    BLOCKADE 

AXD    AN   EXPERIENCE    IN  REGIMENTAL 

HOSPITAL  AT  HILTON  HEAD. 

In  February,  1862,  I  received  a  commission 
from  the  United  States  Quartermaster  to  proceed 
to  Port  Royal,  S.  C,  to  build  and  reiwir  army 
wagons.  It  was  a  very  cold  and  blustering  day 
when  I  received  the  order.  February  -n'ae  keep- 
ing up  her  i-eputation  as  one  of  the  most  dis- 
agreeable months  in  the  calendar,  but  I  was 
young  and  in  buoyant  spirits,  and  an  uncheery 
day  had  no  depressing  efl'ects  upon  me.  Visiting 
home,  I  made  instant  preparations  for  the  start 
by  packing  my  tool  chest  and  wearing  apparel. 
Then,  kissing  mother  and  sisters,  and  shaldng 
hands  with  dear  old  father,  I  ran  lightly  down 
the  steps  and  boarded  an  express  wagon,  upon 
which  mj'  tools  had  already  been  loaded.  I  was 
soon  at  the  depot,  and  In  a  short  time  was  speed- 
ing away  to  New- York. 

I  found  upon  arrival  in  New-York  that  the 
steamship  Oriental  was  preparing  to  leave  for 
Port  Royal,  and  on  board  of  her  I  sent  my  chest 
of  tools.  I  also  discovered  to  my  great  satisfao- 
tio^  that  my  brother.  Colonel  Christopher  Blanding. 
was  on  board  in  command  of  225  soldiers  bound 


58 


LTBEAEY    OF    TEIBUXE    EXTEAS. 


for  Port  Eoyal  to  joiu  the  3d  Kliode  Island  Heavy 
Ai'tillery.  Beside  troops,  the  Oriental  carried 
horses,  in  stalls,  upon  her  deck,  and  in  her  hold 
were  fixed  ammunition    and  400  tons  of  powder. 

We  steamed  away  I'rom  the  wharf  the  19th 
of  February,  and  had  good  weather  the  first  day. 
It  came  on  thick  during  the  night,  with  heavy 
winds  to  the  northeast,  wMch  increased  into  a 
shrieking,  howling  gale.  The  waves  rolled  moun- 
tains high.  The  second  day  out  everybody  was 
seasick,  even  to  the  captain,  and  the  task  of 
navigating  the  steamer  devolved  upon  the  mate. 
Off  Hatteras  an  ugly  line  of  breakers  was  dis- 
cernible, and  the  tall  shaft  of  Hatteras  lighthouse 
stood  out  like  a  grim  spectre.  After  losing  sight 
of  Hatteras  the  mate  lost  his  reckoning,  and  de- 
parted from  his  course.  The  first  he  knew  the 
steamer  was  heading  across  Charleston  harbor. 
This  he  knew  by  seeiiig  one  of  our  blockaders, 
which  afterward  proved  to  be  the  gunboat  Florida, 
looking  out  for  blockade  runners,  at  the  mouth  of 
the  harbor. 

It  was  growing  dark,  but  the  mate  stood  on  the 
hurricane  deck,  near  a  bright  howFtzer,  earnestly 
looking  through  his  marine  glass  toward  the 
gunboat,  steadying  himself  meanwhile  by  leaning 
against  the  iron  rod  bracing  the  smoke  stack.  A 
puff  of  smoke,  a  faint  report,  and  the  shrieking 
of  a  shell  across  the  bow  of  our  sTeamer,  called 
the  attention  of  the  mate  to  the  signal  lights 
which  had  been  hoisted,  and  which  he  now  per- 
ceived were  showing  a  wrong  color.  Still  we 
kept  on,  aiUd  the  Florida  sent  two  shells  in  quick 
succession,  which  burst  directly  over  us.  She 
had  evidently  mistaken  us  for  a  blockade  runner. 
The  mate  gave  the  order  through  the  speaking 
tube  to  the  chief  engmeer  to  "Stop  her!"  but 
not  before  the  gunboat  had  fired  another  shot, 
wliich  chipped  off  a  piece  of  the  bow  of  the 
steamer.  The  Florida  endeavored  to  get  her 
broadside  to  bear  on  us,  wearing  round  for  that 
purpose.  As  we  hove  to  we  were  so  near  tliem 
thnt  we  c^'Jld  hear  the  boatswain  and  ma+''^ 
piping  away  a  boat's  crew  to  board  us.  Wlien 
the  boat's  crew  came  alongside,  in  the  command 
of  an  officer  of  the  Florida,  we  found  she  had  a 
prize  crew  on  board  to  take  command  of  our 
steamer,  so  sure  were  they  that  they  had  ^captured 
a  Confederate  blockade  runner.  Not  until  they 
came  over  the  side  did  they  discover  their  mis- 
take. It  was  a  narrow  escape,  for,  as  the 
officer  in  command  said,  if  we  had  not  hove  her  to 
as  we  did  they  would  have  poured  in  a  broadside 
whicli  would  probably  have  finished  us,  i"  which 
case  this  story  would  never  have  been  written. 

We  obtained  our  correct  bearing?  from  the  of- 
ficer of  the  Fliorida  and  stoamed  away  again  for 
Hilton  Head.  About  an  hour  after  thepe  ev-it- 
ing  incidents  occurred,  the  cry  of  "  fire  I  fire  1 "' 
rang  out  from  a  hundred  or  more  throats.  All 
hands  made  a  rush  t^v  the  hose.  It  was  soon 
payed  out  fore  and  aft,  but  was  not  needed.  A 
dense  smoke,  arising  aft,  Avas  the  cause  of  the 
alarm.  The  firemen  were  emptying  ashes  down 
the  fire  hatch ;  hence  the  scare. 

We  sighted  Hilton  Head  the  morning  of  Feb- 
tuary  23d,"  over  four  days  out.  Everybody  was 
more   than   glad.     Tlie    commissary   sergeant    did 


the  right  thing  by  bringing  on  the  very  best  hi» 
larder  offered.  After  such  a  Siege  of  seasicknes*^ 
we  aH  did  justice  to  the  fare.  I  should  have 
been  all  right  if  my  left  ankle  had  not  been 
wrenched  severely  by  a  lurch  of  the  steamer  the 
third  day  out.  I  was  pitched  unceremoniously 
to  leeward,  and  my  foot  caught  in  one  of  the 
lee  scuppers.  In  consequence  of  this  accident,, 
when  the  rest  marched  off  the  steamer  I  was 
carried  ashore  on  a  litter.  The  ambulance  was 
summoned,  and  I  was  taken  in  and  conveyed  to 
the  Eegimental  Hospitali.  Ah!  here  was  an  end 
to  all  my  day  dreams. 

I  was  put  into  a  room  about  fourteen  feet 
square,  containing  eight  cot  beds,  all  of  which 
were  occupied  by  fever  patients.  The  day  I  was 
assigned  a  cot  in  the  room,  one  of  the  occupants 
died.  Patients  were  brought  in  alive  and  carried 
out  dead  at  the  rate  of  one  every  two  or  three 
days.  On  a  cot  next  to  mine  was  a  boy  only 
sixteen  years  of  age,  Charles  H.  Eounds,  a  volun- 
teer from  Providence,  E.  I.,  in  the  3d  E.  I.  H.  A. 
Across  the  way  was  another  boy  of  the  same  age 
by  the  name  of  James  H.  Medbury.  He  was 
convalescent,  but  no  one  know\s  how  that  boy 
suffered.  I  caught  the  coast  fever  and  my  ankle 
was  in  such  terrible  shape  that  Doctor  Peckham 
said  my  foot  would  have  to  be  amputated.  I 
suffered  intolerable  agony  with  it,  but  it  was  not 
amputated.  When  I  got  the  best  of  my  fever,  I 
looked  around  upon  my  fellow  sufferers,  all  of 
them  new  faces,  except  one,  that  of  Charlie 
Eounds.  The  others.  Nurse  Nelson  M.  Barnes  in- 
formed me,  with  the  exception  of  Medbury  and 
one  other,  "lay  mouldering  in  the  ground,"  be- 
yond the  earthworks. 

Great,  good-hearted  Nurse  Barnes,  with  his  220 
pounds  avoirdupois,  was  here,  there  and  every- 
where, where  his  services  were  needed.  Many  a 
poor  boy  iti  the  delirum  of  fever  received  the 
touch  of  his  hand,  soft  as  a  woman's.  Many  ar 
one  has  had  his  last  moments  on  earth  soothed  by 
Ids  gentle  treatment  as  he  wiped  the  death  damp 
from  the  brow  of  the  poor  sufferer,  some  mother's 
darling,  perhaps.  Alas !  how  many  of  them  never 
saw  mother  and  home  again! 

Charlie  was  worn  to  a.  shadow.  His  bones 
protruded  tlu'ough  his  flesh,  and  he  was  literallj'" 
packed  in  cotton.  The  day  before  he  died,  he 
asked  me  in  a  feeble  voice  if  I  thought  his 
mother  liad  foi-gotten  him ;  then  almost  immedi- 
ately answered  the  question  himself  by  saying : 
"  Oh,  no !  no  1  God  forgive  me  for  such  a. 
thought!"  I  told  him  he  would  probably  get  a 
letter  by  the  next  mail  from  her.  "  Oh,  do  you 
really  think  so  ?"  he  cried.  That  day  he  grew 
rapidly  worse.  Barnes  came  softly  in,  and  sit- 
ting down  on  his  couch  gently  brushed  the  damp 
hair  back  from  the  poor  boy's  brow.  Charlie- 
recognized  him.  "  Oil,  Barnes,"  he  said,  "  am  I 
dy-ing  ?  See,  see,  Barnes!  The-buck-et-in-in-the- 
well  I  Oh-how-it  spark-les,-Barnes !  Who-se  sing- 
sing-ing  ?  All !  see-I-see-oh-how-beautif  ul !  "  He- 
fell  back  a  lifeless  corpse  in  Nurse  Barnes'.-?  arms. 

I  turned  my  face  to  the  rough  board  partition 
and  wept.  Barnes  composed  the  poor  boy's  limbs, 
gently  clo.sel   his  eyes,  then  covering  him  yvit]\  a-; 


TRUE    STOEIES    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    THE    LTNION. 


59r 


sheet,  sat  down  and  hid  his  face  in  his  hands, 
while  tlie  tears  trickle<l  elowly  from  between  his 
fingers  and  dropped  on  the  mean  little  floor  at 
his  feet.  Never  before  had  I  seen  him  so  affected. 
I  think  he  would  have  readily  given  a  year  of  liid 
own  life-lease  to  save  that  of  Charlie's. 

"I  have  seen  suffering  in  all  its  stages;  but, 
God  grant  it  may  never  be  my  fate  to  Avitness 
such  another  sufferer  as  lies  covered  up  with  that 
shroud!"  he  said  in  low  tones  to  me. 

Then  he  turned  to  IMedbury's  couch.  Medbury 
lay,  poor  boy,  witli  liis  head  covered  up,  a7id 
when  Barnes  uncovered  him  he  smiled  faintly  on 
him  through  his  tpare. 

"Why,  nty  dear  little  fellow,"  said  Barnes 
softly  as  he  brushed  the  teardrops  from  the 
boy's  eyes  with  his  liandkerchief.  Then  he  slyly 
took  from  his  pocket  an  orange  and  cut  a  small 
hole  in  one  end  of  it. 

'•There  Med,"  whispered  Barnes,  "don't  let  the 
rest  of  the  boys  see  you  when  you  take  a  squeeze 
out  of  it,  for  they  can't  all  have  such  daintiee 
you  know."  He  patted  the  boy's  head,  nodded  to 
me  and  passed  silently  out. 

But  there  was  one  wlio  saw  this  by-play  besides 
myself ;  and  tliat  was  Bernard  IMurray,  a  member 
of  the  3d  jMassachusetts  HeaA^y  Artillery,  enlisted 
from  Fall  River.  He  was  convalescing  at  this 
time,  but  suffered  a  relapse  and  afterward  died 
of  typhoid  fever  November  6,  1862.  He  occupied 
The    cot    on   my    ritfht. 

"  Do  ye  mind  now,"  he  whispered  to  me  across 
the  space  between  the  couches,  '■  did  ye  see  it  ? 
Troth  Barnes  is  fit  to  occupy  the  sphere  that— » 
that— the  angels     occupy." 

The  idea  of  Barnes,  AAath  his  two  hundred  and 
twenty  pounds  avoirdupois,  an  anael!  It  was  the 
first  time  since  my  sickness  that  I  Laughed  ;  yes, 
actually  laughed,  with  death  staring  me  in  the 
face  on  the  one  side,  and  this  well  meaning  Irish 
lad,  for  he  was  barely  twenty-five,  fightingj 
disease  on  the  other. 

"Sure  is  it  at  me  ye  he's  laughing?"  and  he 
loolctd  at  me  with  a  quizzical  smile  on  his  wan 
features.     "  Well,  me  wor'rds  go  jist  the  same." 

I  told  him  that  I  could  not  help  laughing  at  the 
idea  of  Barnes  becoming  an  angel,  he  was  so  very 
fleshy. 

"In  faith,  me  b'y,"  replied  Murray,  "did  yez 
iver  see  wan  of  the  poor  divils  carted  out  of 
this  hole  but  phwat  was  thin  enough  to  be  two 
angels  ?" 

Charlie  was  buried  the  next  day,  but  we  did 
not  hear  the  mournful  tones  of  the  dirge  which 
the  band  had  l^een  in  the  habit  of  playing,  be- 
cause they  did  not  commerce  to  play  until  some 
distance  from  the  hospital.  This  was  by  order 
of  the  Commandant.  The  inexpressiMy  solemn 
strains  uni^erved  the  convalescent  ones  and  in- 
vari':ibly  caused  the  death  of  some  poor  fellow 
struggling   to   live. 

Uaniel  H.  Briggs  was  brought  in  the  next  day 
with  typhoid,  and  assigned  the  cot  made  vacaoit 
by  the  death  of  Charlie  Rounds.  In  two  days 
he  was  gone. 

I  lay  for  days  afterward  between  life  and  death, 
but  finally  began  to  rally.  I  mended  rapidly,  and 
was  soon  able   to   get  around   on  crutches.     The 


steamship  Atlantic  came  in  one  day  and  I  threw 
aside  my  crutches  a'ul  transferred  my  tools  ta 
her  deck,  and  in  a  day  or  two  she  steamed  away, 
with  me  on  board.  I  viewed  with  pleasure  th©^ 
fast  receding  sandy  shores  of  Hilton  Head,  and 
breathed  a  sUent  prayer  for  the  poor  fellows  I 
left  behind  in  the  hospital.— Stephen  F.  Blauding. 


NOT  AT  ALL  MILITARY. 


BUT  IT  \VA.S  OXE   OF  THOSE  THIXGS  THE  GUARD- 
COUU)    XOT    COMPLAIX     ABOUT. 

Mother  Bickerdybe  was  a  grand  and  heroic 
nurse  in  the  Union  hospitals  during  our  Civil 
War.  All  the  men  who  had  been  in  camp  any 
length  of  time  kne-y  and  revered  her.  As  she 
was  a  very  busy  woman  she  did  not  trouble  her- 
self about  the  countersign.  But  one  night  a  nevr 
regiment  came  in  and  the  new  recruits  were  put 
on  guard  duty.  One  was  stationed  near  Mother 
Bickerdyke's    tent. 

About  10  o'clock,  having  been  out  all  the  even- 
ing in  the  hospitals,  ISIother  Bickerdyke  took  a 
short  cut,  which  carried  her  a  little  out  of  the 
lines,  so  that  as  she  approached  the  guard  he 
felt  justified   in  halting  her. 

•••Who  goes  there?"  he  demanded. 

"  Mother  Bickerdyke,"  she  answered  pleasantly, 
expecting  to  be  allowed  to  pass  as  usual. 

"Advance,   and    give   the  countersign!" 

"I  don't  know  it.  I'm  Mother  Bickerdyke. 
I  don't  need  the  countersign.     Everybody  knows- 

me."  ,. 

"I  don't  know  you  anyway,  lou  cant  pass- 
without  the  countersign." 

"Wliy,  that  is  my  tent.  You  are  stationed 
here  to  guard  me,  and  I  have  been  out  caring 
for  the  sick,  and  I  want  to  go  to  my  tent." 

"I  don't  know  you,  and  if  I  did  I  would  not 
alloAV  you  to  pass  without  the  countersign.  ' 

She  Avas  a  woman  of  great  physical  strength 
and  courage.  As  quick  as  a  flash  she  sprang  for- 
ward, wrenched  his  gun  from  his  hands,  and  sent 
it  flying  one  way,  while  she  sent  him  sprawlmg 

the  other. 

"I  hope  you'll  know  Mother  Bickerdyke  after 
Ihis,"  she  said,  with  a  great  deal  of  emphasis,  as 
she  entered  her  tent. 

The  poor  guard  Avas  bewildered  and  amazed, 
lie  had  stood  at  his  post  of  duty,  so  strong  and 
braA^e,  with  his  gun  in  his  hands,  and  in  a  second 
he  had  been  sent  spinning  like  a  top,  yards  away 
from  his  beat.  He  gathered  himself  up  as  best 
he  could  and  began  to  search  for  his  gun.  The 
night  Avas  very  dark,  and  there  was  only  one  way 
by' which  ho  could  hopt  to  find  it,  and  that  was 
by  feeling  for  it  Avith  his  hands  on  the  ground. 
He  kept  up  the  search  till  he  was  relieved  from 
duty.  Failing  to  find  the  gun,  and  not  wishing 
to  tell  any  one  about  the  matter,  he  waited  untit 
daylight,  and  then  found  his  gun. 

After  that  he  always  kneAv  IMother  Bickerdyke  ^ 
he  needed   no  further  introduction.  A.  W. 


60 


LIBEAEY    OF    TEIBUXE    EXTPwA^. 


A    TRAGEDY   GF    PRISON  LIFE. 


A  STERN  BUT  NECESSAKY  PUNISHMENT  AT 
ANDERSONVILLE. 


»rCRDERS,    ROBBERIES    AXD    A    GEXERAIi    REIGX 
OF     TERROR    LEAD     TO     THEIR     IN- 
EVITABLE REVOLT. 

Peru,  Ohio.— It  was  tlie  marvel  of  the  world 
that  the  hundreds  of  thousands  of  soldiers 
who  were  discharged  from  the  mihtarj'  service 
of  the  United  States  in  the  summer  of  1865 
should  so  readily  assume  the  relations  to  ci^i-l 
life  which  they  dropped  four  years  before  when 
called  to  defend  their  country  agamst  armed 
treason   and    rebellion. 

It  was  predicted  by  many  that  such  a  pro- 
tracted term  of  army  life,  accompanied  as  it 
always  is  by  influences  wliich  tend  to  fasten  upon 
the  youQg  habits  not  conducive  to  frugality  or 
morality,  would  leave  the  citizen  soldiery  wholly 
and  entirely  unfitted  faithfully  and  honestly  to 
discharge  the  duties  pertaining  to  citizenship.  It 
was  said  by  many,  "The  soldiers  won't  work," 
"They  have  contracted  an  overpowering  habit  of 
indolence,"  "Many  of  them  have  become  dissi- 
pated."  Every  one  knows  how  the  gloomy  pre- 
dictions were  disproved  by  the  results.  Though 
most  of  the  soldiers  were  young,  they  had  already 
formed  correct  habits,  and  were  so  imbued  with 
fixed  principles  of  right  that  no  corruptinj  asso- 
ciations could  destroy  their  future  usefulness. 
When  the  war  closed  it  was  the  unanimous  senti- 
ment among  the  soldiers  that  they  had  had  enough 
of  war.  They  longed  for  the  peaceful  vocations 
of  civil  Ufe,  and  in  accordance  with  this  feeling 
they  returned  to  their  homes  and  slipped  back  into 
the  occupations  opened  for  them  by  the  magnifi- 
cent system  of  diversified  industry  which  had  been 
created  wliile  they  were  at  tlie  front  by  the 
operation  of  the  American  Protective  Tariff  laws. 
It  is  true  that  nearly  every  one  found  his  former 
place  gone,  or,  rather,  occupied  by  some  one  who 
had  stayed  at  home,  and  not  a  few  of  the  old 
volunteers  nearly  starved  to  death  l^efore  they 
could  find  profitable  occupations  again ;  but  tlie 
mass  of  them  were  quiclvly  absorbed  into  the 
business  and  industrial  pursuits  of  tlie  day. 

The  volunteers  were  glad  to  leave  behind  them, 
and,  at  first,  even  to  forget  as  far  as  possible,  the 
many  privations  and  hardships  inseparably  con- 
nected with  the  life  of  a  soldier.  They  were  tired  of 
the  forced  marches,  when  it  seemed  as  if  nature 
could  no  longer  endure  the  terrible  ordeal  of  fatigue, 
want  of  sleep  and  short  rations ;  the  lonely  picket 
Bentry  through  long,  silent  hours  of  the  night; 
the  horrible  suspense  which  took  possession  of 
each  wliile  waiting  in  hne  for  the  onset  of  the 
great  battle  Avhich  aU  knew  to  be  inevitable,  and 
the  consequences  of  whicli  none  dared  even  to 
conjecture;  of  the  fierce  rusK  and  awful  confu- 
sion and  uproar  of  the  engagement;  the  outcry  of 
the  wounded  and  the  ghastly,  upturned  faces  of 
the  dead.  All  these  and  much  more  the  old 
veterans   gladly  consigned  to  the  realms  of  tem- 


porary oblivion.  But  now,  after  the  lapse  of 
a  quarter  of  a  century,  these  old  war  scenes,  not 
only  the  stirring,  but  the  ludicrous  and  pathetic 
as  well,  come  welling  up  apparition-like  and  un- 
bidden in  the  memory.  This  is  undoubtedly  one 
of  the  reasons  why  much  more  interest  is  now 
taken  in  the  history  and  events  of  the  war  than 
was  the  case  just  after  its  close. 

For  the  first  few  years  it  was  almost  impossible 
for  regimental  associations  to  assemble  enough  of 
their  members  to  hold  respectable  and  interesting 
annual  reunions.  I  attended  one  of  our  regi- 
ment, the  123d  Ohio  Volunteer  Infantry,  at 
Put-in  Bay  in  1868,  at  which  there  were  only 
three  representatives.  Now  these  reunions  are 
anxiously  looked  forward  to  and  are  invariably 
well  attended. 

No  incidents  of  the  war  are  discussed  with  more 
interest  at  our  regimental  reunions  tham  those 
pertaining  to  life  in  Confederate  prisons.  This 
is  not  strange,  however,  all  things  considered. 
There  were  45,613  prisoners  in  all  ushered  into 
the  stockade  at  Andersonville.  Of  these  12,912 
died  there.  Many  thousands  died  in  other  prisons 
in  the  far  South  immediately  after  their  removal 
from  Andersonville.  What  wonder  that  every 
ncrap  of  history  and  every  incident  connected  with 
military  prison  life  in  the  Confederacy  should  be 
vividly  rememl^ered ! 

Probably  no  episode  of  prison  life  has  attracted 
greater  attention  than  the  hanging  of  six  Union 
prisoners  at  Andersonville  July  11.  1864.  The 
history  of  that  terrible  event  Is  briefly  as  follows : 

A    REIGX    OF  TERROR. 

There  was  in  the  prison  a  certain  percentage 
of  unscrupulous  rascals,  mostly  natural  born  ruf- 
fians and  bounty  jumpers  from  New- York  City, 
regular  Bowery,  blood-red  shirted  rufiians,  wlio 
made  a  practice  of  robbing  and  stealing  iroin  tne 
ether  prisoners  wlienevet  a  safe  opportunity 
offered. 

About  the  1st  of  June,  1864,  becoming  em- 
boldened by  their  numbers  and  successes,  they 
no  longer  confined  their  operations  to  the  night. 
Tliey  organized  themselves  into  bands  of  from 
five  to  twenty,  and  boldlj'  knocked  down  and 
robbed  any  who  appeared  to  possess  anytliing  of 
value  in  broad  daylight.  We  caEed  them 
'•  raiders, "  and  the  most  prominent,  of  these  bands 
were  called  by  the  names  of  their  ruflSan  leaders, 
as  "  Mosby's  Eaiders, "  "  Curtis's  Raiders, "  "  Dela- 
ney's  Eaiders,"  "Sarsfield's  Raiders,"  "  Collins's 
Raiders,"  etc.  Those  who  had  been  long  in 
rebel  prisons  afforded  them  slender  pickings,  but 
more  abundant  opportunities  came  to  them  with 
the  advent  of  the  "  Plj-mouth  PUgidms." 

The  methods  of  the  "  raiders "  were  varied  to 
suit  the  circumstances,  and  ranged  all  the  way 
from  sneak  thievery  to  highway  robbery.  The 
bands  were  composed  of  men  ^vell  versed  in  all 
the  arts  of  crookedness,  many  of  them  ha^ong 
graduated  from  the  slums  of  New-York  City. 
Some  of  their  number  were  constantlj'-  on  the 
watch  for  men  among  the  fresh  arrivals  who  had 
the  appearance  of  possessing  valuables.  Theft" 
wouM  kindlj-  offer  to  find  them  a  good  sleeping 
place,  and  then  descend  on  them  at  night,  icuock 


TEUE    STOEIES    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    THE    UNION. 


61 


them  down  and  plunder  them  with  such  swift 
dexterity  that  tho  job  was  done  almost  before 
the  victim   could   realize  what  had   happened. 

The   "raiders''   had   theii-   headquarters   on   the 
main  street,  near  tlie  south  gate,  iu  a  big,  com- 
modious   tent   made   from    blankets    and   ponchos 
■which  they  had  obtained  by  robbing  other  pris 
oners. 

I  was  one  day  standing  near  this  tent,  watching 
some  new  arrivals  who  were  being  brought 
in  at  the  south  gate,  when  I  noticed 
an  artillery  sergeant,  who  was  well 
dressed  and  displayed  considerable  jew- 
elry. How  he  was  able  to  carry  a  fine-looking 
watch,  chain,  rings,  etc.,  through  to  the  prison 
I  could  never  quite  understand.  One  of  the 
"raiders"  politely  invited  him  to  the  tent,  and  en- 
gaged him  in  conversation,  while  another  stole 
up  behind  him,  knocked  him  down  with  a  cliub, 
and  quickly  despoiled  him  of  all  his  valuables. 
Within  ten  minutes  from  the  time  1  saw  him 
come  in  at  the  gate  I  again  saw  him  on  the  street, 
his  head  and  face  covered  with  blood  and  his 
uniform  muddy  and  torn.  As  he  wiped  the 
blood  from  his  face  ho  said:  "Is  there  no  way 
iu  wluch  this  thing  can  be  stopped?"  It  did 
seem  that  among  so  many  something  might  bo 
done  to  check  lawlessness,  but  the  "raiders" 
had  all  the  advantage  of  organization.  If  at- 
tacked, by  a  system  of  signals  they  could  con- 
centrate fifty  or  a  hundred  men  at  any  given 
point  in  a  few  minutes.  Tliey  were  plentifully 
supplied  with  slung  shots  and  brass  knuckles,  and 
not  a  few  had  bowie  knives.  Furthermore,  by 
means  of  their  robberies  they  had  been  able  to 
supply  themselves  with  plenty  of  food,  and  were 
in  full  strength,  while  a  majority  of  the  prisoners 
were  so  starved  and  emaciated  that  they  coukl 
ofler  no  more  than  feeble  resistance  at  best. 

To  appreciate  the  situation  fully  and  compre- 
hend the  (lifticulties  of  successfully  combating 
the  "  raiders, "  it  must  be  remembered  that  we  were 
a  community  of  35,000  men  and  boys  without 
gOA'ernment.  The  rebels  never  made  the  slightest 
attempt  to  presers^e  order.  Their  whole  ener- 
gies seemed  to  be  devoted  to  keeping  the 
Yankees  inside  the  stockade.  The  grounds  were 
not  even  laid  off  in  streets.  The  only  place 
which  approaclied  anything  like  a  street  in  ap- 
pearance was  a  space  leading  east  from  the  south 
gate,  which  was  kept  clear  for  the  purpose  of 
marching  in  prisoners  and  hauling  in  the  rations. 
Prisoners  were  never  assigned  to  quarters.  Once 
inside,  they  were  ?]lowed  to  select  a  site  at 
their  own  sweet  will.  The  rebel  guards  did  not 
seem  to  care  what  was  done  inside,  provided  that 
the  prisoners  stayed  there  and  kept  away  from 
the  dea.d  line.  Furthermore,  being  a  mob  with- 
out a  leader,  all  ranlfcd  alike,  and  no  one  seemed 
inclined  to  assume  command,  and  all  wefre  hop- 
ing that  our  stay  would  be  so  short  that  we 
could  get  through  without  organizing.  The 
"raiders"  Avere  so  strong  and  well  organized  that 
they  were  thought  to  be  invincible. 

A  BKAVE  M^N  MAKES    A   STAND. 

But    the    high-handed    robberies    now    became 
unendurable.     Sergeant  Leroy  L.  Key,  of  Bloom- 


ington.  111.,  determined  to  make  an  effort  to 
crush  them.  He  organized  what  was  known  as 
"  Key's  Regulators,"  with  Limber  Jim,  Ked  Carri- 
gan,  Goody  Larkin,  Johnson  and  others  as  his 
lieutenints.  Tliey  immediately  proceeded  to  or- 
ganize companies  in  anticipation  of  a  bis,  bat- 
tle which  they  knew  must  be  fought.  In  spite 
of  the  secrecy  of  the  movement,  information  of 
it  reached  the  "raiders,"  and  they  sent  three 
of  their  number  to  kill  Key.  They  called  on  him 
at  his  tent  on  the  evening  of  July  2,  told  him 
what  they  had  heard,  and  asked  if  it  was 
true.  Key  said  it  was.  One  of  them  then  drew 
a  knife  and  the  other  two  drew  "  billies" ;  l>ut 
Key,  expecting  such  trouble,  had  procured  a 
revolver,  which  one  of  the  pilgrims  had  brought 
in  in  his  knapsack.  Key  drove  them  off  without 
firing  a  shot.  This  attempt  on  the  life  of  Key 
undoubtedly  precipitated  an  attack  by  the  reg- 
ulators on  the  "  raiders."  Key  issued  orders  that 
the  members  of  all  the  companies  should  h& 
ready  to  move  in  the  morning.  Key  had  already 
informed  Wirz— the  commandant  of  the  prison— of 
his  intention.  For  a  wonder.  Wirz  approved 
the  plan,  and  offered  him  the  use  of  the  in- 
closure  at  the  north  gate  in  which  to  confine 
and  try  any  whom  he  might  arrest.  Key  also 
sent  notice  to  Wirz  of  the  time  he  intended  to 
attack  the  "raiders,"  so  that  the  commotion 
might  not  be  mistaken  for  an  attack  on  the 
stockade  and  cause  the  guards  to  open  on  the 
prison  with  gra.pe  and  canister. 

Neither  the  "regulators"  nor  "raiders"  slept 
on  the  night  of  the  2d.  Each  was  expecting  an 
attack  from  the  other,  and  kept  watch  to  pre- 
vent  a   surprise. 

THE  BTG  ir.NT  CAPTUBED. 

On  the  morning  of  the  3d  the  "regulators'* 
formed  and  moved  'down  toward  the  "  big  tent." 
The  "raiders"  were  ready  and  waiting,  armed 
with  slungshots,  knives  and  clubs,  while  each, 
of  the  "  regulators  "  carried  a  short  club  fastened 
to  his  wrist  by  a  string.  The  struggle  was 
terrible,  but  short  and  decisive.  Within  five 
minutes  the  "  raiders"  were  defeated  and  scat- 
tered in  all  directions,  pursued  by  the  victorious- 
"  regulators." 

During  the  engagement  the  Confederates,  in 
accordance  with  their  chronic  fear  of  an  out- 
break, had  their  infantry  in  line  of  battle,  ari'd 
their  cannon  shotted  and  trained  on  the  camp, 
while  the  artillerists,  with  the  lanyards  in  their 
hands,  were  read.v  to  mow  down  the  defenceless 
prisoners  at   a  moment's  notice. 

With  the  defeat  of  the  "  raiders "  the  "  reg- 
ulators'" seemed  satisfied  for  the  day  and  deferred 
making  any  arrests  until  another  day. 

In  the  early  morning  bands  of  men,  with  short 
billies  tied  to  their  wrists,  could  be  seen  march- 
ing through  the  prison  in  all  direetrons,  hunting 
up  and  arresting  the  most  prominent  of  tlie 
"raiders."  Many  of  the  criminals  made  fierce  re- 
sistance, but  the  result  of  tlie  battle  the  day 
before  had  destroyed  their  confidence  and  de- 
prived them  of  much  of  their  support.  The  in- 
terest in  the  arrests  increased  until  it  ran  into 
the   wUdesi     excitement.       The     tents    of     the 


«2 


LIBE^iEY    OF    TRIBOTE    EXTRAS. 


^'  raiders"  were  torn  doAvn  and  pillaged  of  the 
fruits  of  their  many  nightly  forays.  A  large 
number  of  watches,  chains,  knives,  etc.,  were 
found  buried  beneath  their  tents.  It  was  said, 
too,  that  skeletons  of  several  of  their  victims  were 
found    buried   there    also. 

By  night  of  July  4  Key  had  125  of  the  most 
noted  of  the  offenders  arrested  and  conilned  in 
the  inclosiire  at  the  north  gate.  For  their  trial 
he  organized  a  court-martial  consisting  of  thirteen 
sergeants,  taken  from  the  late  arrivals,  in  order 
that  they  might  not  be  prejudiced  against  the 
raiders.  The  trial  was  fairly  and  honestly  con- 
ducted, with  all  the  formality  which  could  be 
remembered,  and  the  "  raiders"  were  allowed 
counsel  and  the  privilege  of  cross-examining  wit- 
nesses untU  satisfied. 

iST3XTEXCE     PROXOIJJfCET). 

The  trial  lasted  several  days,  and  resulted  in 
sentencing  a  large  number  to  run  the  gantlet, 
a  few  to  wear  balls  and  chains,  and  sLx;  to  be 
hanged.  These  six  were  John  Sarsfield,  154th 
>.>w-Y'ork ;  William  Collins,  88th  Pennsylvania: 
Charles  Curtis,  5th  Ehode  Island  Battery :  Patrick 
Delany,  83d  Pennsylvania ;  A.  Muir,  United  States 
^■avy,  and  Terrence  Sullivan,   72d  New-York. 

'I'hose  sentenced  to  ball  and  chain  were  brought 
in  and  had  the  irons  fitted  to  them. 

As  Wirz  refused  to  guard  any  more  except 
those  sentenced  to  death,  the  remainder  were  sent 
in  and  obliged  to  run  the  gantlet.  The  punish- 
ment was  terrible.  As  they  ran  with  all  their 
strength  on  being  forced  through  the  gate  one 
at  a  time.  between  the  two  rows  of 
men,  blows  from  clubs  and  fists  rained  on  them 
thick  and  fast.  Three  were  killed  outright,  and 
all  were  terribly  bruised.  Many  of  the  men  who 
composed  the  gantlet  were  men  whom  the 
"  raiders"  had  robbed  and  maltreated,  and  who 
considered  this  their  only  change  to  get  even  with 
them. 

SIX    MEN"   EXECUTED.  ' 

It  was  not  generally  known  by  the  prison- 
ers when  and  where  those  condemned  to  death 
would  be  executed,  but  on  the  morning  of  the 
11th  of  July  the  carpenters  detailed  for  the  pur- 
pose began  the  building  of  a  rude  scaffold  near 
the  south  gate.  It  was  a  rude  structure.  A 
Tieam  was  fastened  to  the  top  of  two  posts  about 
fifteen  feet  long,  about  six  from  the  ground. 
Two  boards  were  stretched,  across  from  one  post 
to  the  other,  and  met  at  the  centre.  The  ends 
at  the  po.«t8  rested  on  cleats,  the  ends  at  the 
centre  rested  on  a  couple  of  barrels,  standing  up- 
right, and  each  having  a  rope  fastened  through 
a  hole  so  that  a  man  could  jerk  it  from  under 
thei  platform  and  let  the  whole  thing  drop.  A 
ladder  by  which  to  ascend  the  scaffold  completed 
the  whole  outfit. 

As  the  time  approached  for  the  execution  the 
excitement  both  inside  and  outside  the  prison 
was  Intense.  The  prisoners  gathered  in  a  dense 
crowd  as  close  as  possible  to  the  scaffold,  wliile 
outside  the  infantry  guards  were  drawn  up  in 
line  ready  for  action,  and  the  artillerists  stood 
ready  at  their  trained  and  shotted  pieces  to  firo 
•at   the    command.     Key  had   formed   nis   "  regu- 


lators" in  a  hollow  square  around  the  scaffold, 
and  took  his  position  inside  with  the  six  men 
who  were  to  act  as  hangmen.  A  little  after 
noon  the  south  gate  opened,  and  Wirz  rode  in 
on  his  5Shite  horse.  Behind  him  walked  an 
old  priest  reading  the  service  for  the  condemned. 
The  six  doomed  men  followed,  between  double 
ranks  of  guards.  As  soon  as  they  came  inside 
the  hollow  square  Wirz  said :  "  Brisoners,  I  return 
to  you  deee  men  so  goot  as  I  got  dem.  You  have 
tried  dem  and  found  dem  guilty.  I  haf  had 
noting  to  do  wid  it.  I  vash  mine  hands  of 
eberyting  connected  wid  it.  Do  wid  dem  as  you 
like,  and  may  Got  haf  mercy  on  you  and  on  dem ' 
Garts,  about  face !  Vorwarts,  march  1 "  With 
this  he  marched  out  and  left  us. 

For  a  moment  the  condemned  men  looked  dazed. 
They  seemed  to  realize  for  the  first  time  that  the 
"  regulators"  were  in  terrible  earnest.  They  had 
evidently  thought  all  along  that  the  talk  of 
hanging  was  mere  bluff.  One  of  them  exclaimed  : 
"My  God!  men,  you  don't  really  mean  to  hang 
us   up    there  ? " 

"That's  about  the  size  of  it,"  said  Key. 
At  this  they  all  burst  out  in  protestations  and 
intercessions,  mixed  Avith  imprecations,  untili  one 
of  them  said:  "All  stop  now,  and  let  the  priest 
talk  for  us."  At  this  the  priest  closed  the  book, 
which  he  had  constantly  read  since  entering  the 
gate,  and,  turning  to  tlie  crowd,  commenced  an 
earnest  plea  for  mercy.  As  soon  as  the  crowd 
caught  the  first  few  words,  and  realized  their 
import,  they  began  to  shout :  "  No  !  No  !  No  !  " 
"  Hang  them  !  Hang  them ! "  "  Never  let  them  go !" 
"  Hang  them  ! "  etc. 

Then  Curtis,  a  low,  heavy-set,  powerfully  built 
man,  seeing  the  hopelessness  of  the  case,  exclaimed  : 
"By  G— ,  I  say  die  this  way  first!"  Lowering 
his  head  he  made  a  dash  through  the  line  of 
'"regulators"  on  the  east  side  of  the  square  like 
a  great  cannon  ball.  Delaney,  a  great,  brawny 
Irishman,  started  to  follow,  but  Limber  Jim 
strode  in  front  of  him,  and  with  a  big  upraised 
bowie  knife  said :  "  You  dare  to  move  another 
step  and  I'll  open  you  from  one  end  to  the  other." 
Delaney  stopped,  and  this  checked  the  others,  until 
the  "regulators"  again  got  their  lines  formed. 

Wirz,  seeing  the  panic  and  fearing  the  dreaded 
outbreak  had  begun,  ran  down  from  the  head- 
ciuarter  steps  to  the  captain  of  tihe  battery,  shriek- 
ing, "Fire!"  "lire!"  ''Fire!"  But  the  captain 
could  see  that  the  rush  was  away  from  and  not 
toward  the  stockade.  So  he  did  not  fire.  The 
crowd  of  citizens,  men,  women  and  even  children, 
who  had  pushed  up  directly  in  front  of  the 
artillery  outside  of  the  stockade  to  secure  a  good 
view  of  the  scaffold,  hearing  the  order  of  "^irz 
to  "  fire,"  and  knowing  themselves  to  be  directly 
in  range,  were  panic  stricken,  and  ran  screaming 
and  tumbling  over  each  other  in  their  wild  haste 
to  get  out  of  danger. 

During  all  tliis  confusion  two  of  the  "regu- 
lators" were  in  "hot  pursuit  of  Curtis,  who  had 
run  down  to  the  swamp.  He  plunged  in  and 
forced  his  way  through,  although  he  sank  in  to 
liis  hips,  coming  out  covered  with  the  slimy  ooze. 
Here  the  "regulators"  came  up  with  him,  knocked 


TEUE    STOI^IETS    OF    THE    WAR    FOE    THE     UXIOX. 


63 


bim.  down  with  their  chxbs,  and  in  a^  few  minutes 
started  back  toward  tlie  scaft'okl. 

In  the  mean  time  Key  ordered  the  otlier  con- 
•demned  men  upon  tlie  scairohl.  Tlie  nooses  were 
adjusted  to  tlieir  necks  by  the  men  appointed  as 
liangmen,  and  tliere  they  stood  for  fullj-  ten 
minutes  in  full  view  of  the  men  who  were  slowly 
marching  back  with  Curtis. 

When  the  latter  finally  arrived  Curtis  was  al- 
lowed to  sit  down  on  the  ground  a  few  minutes 
to  rest  and  was  then  Helped  up  the  steins  to  his 
place  on  the  scaftold.  Ml  this  time  the  priest 
continued  to  read  the  service  for  the  dying,  to 
■which  Delaney  gave  little  heed.  Delaney  seemed 
to  think  Curtis  was  sulfering  more  from  fright 
than  anything  else  aud  advised  him  to  "  stand  up 
like  a  man  and  die  game,"  and  he  kept  calling 
out  to  his  friends,  making  dispositions  of  diilerent 
articles  of  his  stolen  property,  telling  one  to  take 
Ills  watch  to  his  mother  in  New- York,  and  other 
articles  he  distributed  among  his  friends  in  the 
prison.  The  priest  admonished  him  to  turn  his 
attention  from  things  of  this  earth  to  those  of 
heaven. 

The  whole  six  then  began  to  talk,  saying  tlieir 
farewells  and  sending  messages  to  their  friends. 
Key  took  out  his  watch  and  said :  "  Two  min- 
utes more  to  talk" 

"  Well,  goodby,  byes, "  said  Delaney.  "  If  oi've 
hurted  ony  of  yez,  I  hope  yez'll  forgive  me. 
Shpake  up  now  !  " 

But  no  one  seemed  to  be  in  a  forgiving  mood. 

"  Time  is  up, "  said  Key,  and  lie  raised  his 
hand  as  a  tignal.  The  two  men  who  were  to 
•pull  the  supports  from  the  trap  laid  hold  of  the 
ropes.  The  hangmen  pulled  a  meal  sack  down 
over  the  head  of  each  of  the  condemned  men, 
tightened  the  nooses  and  sprang  to  the  ground,  the 
priest  all  the  time  praj-ing  aloud.  Key  dropped 
his  hand.  Ihe  men  with  the  ropes  snatched  the 
upright  supports  from  under  the  scaffold  and  five 
of  the  condemned  men  were  swung  into  eternity. 

Mosby,  a  large,  heavy  man,  broke  his  rope  and 
fell  to  the  ground  in  a  heap.  The  meal  sack  was 
instantly  removed  from  liis  face,  the  rope  was 
cut  off  his  neck  and  he  was  found  to  be  still  alive. 
In  a  few  minutes  consciousness  returned,  and  he 
gasped  out:  "Where  am  T?  Am  I  in  eternity?" 
Limber  Jim,  whose  brother  he  was  said  to  have 
killed,  Baid,  "  We'll  soon  show  you  where  you 
are,"  and  began  to  fix  up  the  scaffold.  Mosby 
soon  realized  the  situation  and  divined  that  he 
would  be  shown  no  mercy.  He  began  begging 
piteously  for  Ms  life,  but  without  avail.  The 
scaffold  was  soon  adjusted,  and  he  was  carried 
up,  a  new  rope  noosed  about  his  neck  and  the 
scaffold  kicked  from  under  him. 

As  soon  as  the  six  men  were  known  to  be 
dead  the  bodies  were  cut  down,  the  meal  sacks 
were  removed  from  tlieir  faces  and  the  prisoners 
were  allowed  to  file  through  between  two  rows  of 
■"regulators"  and  view  the  bodies. 

ORDER  RESTORED. 

It  was  altogether  a  terrible  proceeding  t  but  it 
«eenied  to  be  the  only  way  in  Which  to  break  the 
dreadful  reign  of  terror.  It  had  a  most  salutary 
effect.  A  police  force  was  organized ;  rules  and 
regulations  were  adopted  and  enforced,  and  the 
prison  became  as  orderly  as  the  same  number  of 
men  could  have  been  under  even  more  favorable 
circumstances. 

Key,  Limber  Jim  and  others  prominently  con- 
nected with  the  hanging,  knowing  they  would 
be  in  danger  of  assassination  by  the  friends  of 
tlie  raiders,  secured  details  outside  the  prisons. 

Tills  account  is  written  from  memory  except  as 
to  some  of  the  naines,  'wliioh  I  had  forgotten  and 
have  taken  from  history.  The  impression  made 
on  the  prisoners  by  the  awful  scene  was  so  vivid 
tliat  the  memory  needs  httle  refresliing,  even 
after  the  lapse  of  more  than  a  quarter  of  a 
century.(-Ed.  P.  Snyder,  Co.  E.,  123d  O.  V.  I. 


TI/EIB    HAIR    STOOD     ON     FND, 


THE  GHOST  OF  VALLEY  EL'N. 


IT  FROZE  THE   MARROW   IN    THE    BOXES    OF  THE 

PICKET      POST,     BUT      THE      CAPTAIX 

BAGGED    HIM     AT    LAST. 

Washington,  D.  C— Valley  Run,  a  rollicking, 
merry  lit+le  river,  flowed  down  a  valley  on  its 
way  to  the  Tennessee,  a  few  miles  north  of 
Chattanooga.  Another  little  stream,  known  as 
Pelible  Run,  joined  its  waters  from  another  val- 
ley, or  cove,  of  the  Cumberland  Mountains,  and 
on  the  point  between  the  two  streams  at  the  place 
where  tliey  joined  were  the  farmhouse  and  build- 
ings of  "Old  John  Bacon,"  as  he  was  known  and 
called  in  all  the  country  about. 

Old  John  was  a  stanch  Union  man.  His  two 
boys  and  his  only  daughter  were  in  strong: 
sympathy  with  the  South.  Old  John  said  all  he 
could  to  dissuade  his  sons  from  going  into  the 
Confederate  service,  but  go  they  would,  joining 
the  1st  Tennessee  Cavalry,  and  leaving  Old  John 
and  his  wife  and  daugliter  Margaret  broken- 
hearted. Old  John  swore  to  his  heart's  content, 
but  the  mother  and  daughter  prayed  for  the  boys. 
Tliere  were  a  few  slaves  upon  tlie  farm,  and  with 
their  help  the  old  man  tried  to  plant  and  harvest 
the  crops.  Time  went  on  until  the  winter  of 
1863  and  1864. 

The  grand  army  of  Sherman's  was  then  en- 
camped about  Chattanooga,  the  Confederate  forces 
being  about  Dalton,  thirty  miles  south.  Thou- 
sands of  men  from  the  latter  army  took  ad- 
vantage of  the  time  to  visit  their  relatives  and 
homes  in  the  country  under  the  control  of  the 
Union  forces.  The  highways  of  most  of  the  val- 
leys led  to  a  main  road  at  Old  John's  farm,  and 
thence  through  a  gap  in  the  mountains  into  the 
valley  of  the  Tennessee  River.  It  was  quite  an 
important  point,  and  was  well  picketed,  and 
nearly  every  day  some  one  (sometimes  more),  poor 
homesick  Johnnie  was  intercepted  on  his  way 
home  to  visit  his  people,  and  sent  as  prisoner  to 
Chattanooga.  Company  L,  of  our  regiment,  was 
stationed  there,  and  built  little  huts  in  the  wooda 
for  both  men  and  horses. 

Old  John's  house  was  across  the  yalley  half 
a  mile  or  so.  He  was  sick  in  bed  nearly  aU  the 
winter.  Margaret  was  a  handsome  mountain 
beauty.  Being  of  an  independent  disposition, 
she  went  to  Chattanooga  quite  often  after  medi- 
cines and  other  necessaries,  such  as  tobacco  and 
coffee,  always  riding  an  old  gray  horse,  which 
was  the  only  means  of  transportation  left  on  the 
farm.  He  was  spared  by  reason  of  being  so  ugly 
and  vicious  that  no  soldier  had  the  courage  to 
go  within  kicking  distance  of  him.  He  was  the 
ugliest  and  the  worst  biting,  striking,  kicking 
brute  I  ever  saw ;  but  Margaret  could  do  all  she 
pleased  with  him  in  perfect  safety,  the  two  hav- 
ing grown  up  boon  companions  on  the  farm. 

Captain  Jack  Smith,  commanding  Company  L^ 
said  to  her  one  day :  "  Are  you  not  afraid  to  go 


64 


LtBRAEY    OF     lEliiLNE    EXTKAS. 


to   Chattanooga   aloue  so   often  ?        Are   5'ou   not 
afraid  of  the  soldiers?" 

"Oh,  no  indeed,"  ahe  said,  "the  soldiers  only 
stare  at  me.  Some  lift  theii-  hats  ;  and  what  do  you 
think,  Captain,  one  of  your  men  said  to  me  this 
morning  'Howdy,  sis,  how  will  you  swap  horses?' 
and  another  one  asked,  '  Don't  you  want  an  or- 
derly to  follow  on  beliind  ?'  Oh,  no.  Captain, 
I  ain't  afraid.  The  soldiers  are  gentlemen ;  they 
will  not  harm  mel;  and  if  they  tried  to  I  would 
give  old  WTiitey  the  whip.  He  would  carry  me 
safely  home.  He  can  outrun  anything  in  your 
regiment  and  not  half  try." 

"  Well,"  said  Captain  Smith,  "  let  me  know  if 
any  of  the  fellows  trouble  you,  and  I  will  attend 
to  their  cases." 

One  day  Captain  Smith  learned  from  head- 
quarters that  there  were  spies  somewhere  in  the 
army.  fThe  men  were  cautioned  to  be  on  the 
alert.  In  some  places  the  pickets  were  doubled 
and  a  new  post  established  on  the  Valley  Euu 
road,  a  mile  north  of  Okl  John's  house.  Three 
men  iwere  stationed  there,  and  they  buUt  a  small 
shelter  a  short  distance  away  from  the  road  in 
the  woods,  one  man  being  on  duty  at  the  road  all 
the  time,  the  other  two  remaining  in  bivouac 
snugly  sheltered  from  the  storms. 

SWISH.     SWISH. 

The  first  night  after  tliis  post  was  established 
Tom  Jones,  an  old  veteran  of  two  years'  service 
on  many  a  lonely  picket  guard,  said  he  would 
take  the  first  trick  and  come  in  at  12  o'clock. 
Bill  Carter  could  taJie  the  next  turn,  and  Dan 
Hays  the  third.  So  Tom,  with  his  overcoat 
buttoned  up  to  his  chin,  his  carbine  in  hand,  left 
the  bivouac,  leading  his  horse  down  through  the 
woods  to  the  place  selected  by  the  captain. 
Placing  his  horse  in  a  sheltered  spot  close  by,  he 
lighted  his  old  cob  pipe  and  sat  down  with  his 
back  to  a  tree  to  watch  and  listen,  his  head  well 
covered  up  in  his  great-coat  cape.  How  long  he 
sat  there  he  did  not  know.  He  was  aroused  by 
the  low  whimiy  of  his  horse. 

Springing  to  his  feet,  he  strained  both  eyes  and 
ears  for  sight  and  sound,  moving  meajiiwhUe  to  his 
faithful  mare,  which  had  been  much  the  better 
guard  of  the  two.  The  wind  was  sighing  through 
the  bare  limbs  of  the  trees,  the  dead  leaves  rustled 
over  the  frozen  ground  and  sought  a  resting  place 
in  the  nooks  midst  the  rocks  on  the  mountain 
side.  But  there  was  no  sou^nd  audible  made  by 
any  human  being,  save  the  throbbing  of  his  own 
heart.  Suddenly  there  was  the  whirr  of  an  owl 
as  it  flashed  through  the  shadow  of  the  woods 
coming  up  from  Valley  Eun.  Tom  had  a  glimpse 
of  the  bird's  broad  wings  as  it  flitted  past.  Alight- 
ing on  a  limb  close  by,  it  gave  a  screech  which 
lifted  Tom  oif  the  ground.  He  dropped  his  car- 
bine by  his  side,  and  then  wanted  to  be  kicked 
for  a  coward,  as  a  man  who  could  be  frightened 
by  an  owl. 

Just  then  his  horse  gave  another  low  call,  as 
if  she  scented  a  friend.  "What  is  it,  old  chum?" 
he  whispered  to  his  faithful  animal,  who  could 
only  reply  by  the  movement  of  her  sensitive  ears. 
Tom  moved  down  the  path  a  few  steps,  but  no 
sounds  came  to  his  ears  except  the  ripple  of  the 
.water  of  Valley  Eun  over  its  gravelly  bed.     Yes, 


there  was  a  sound !  Swish,  swish,  it  came  faintly 
on  tlie  air ;  but  from  where  ?  It  seemed  to  come 
fioni  the  run,  then  the  treetops,  then  from  the- 
hillside,  and  again  it  seemed  almost  at  his  feet. 
•'Swish,  swish,''  "Swish,  swish,"  it  came. 

HOO-HOO,  HA-HA! 

Crouching  at  the  foot  of  the  tree  on  one  knee, 
his  carbine  ready,  he  listened  to  the  sound,  unable 
to  locate  it.  "  Hoo-hoo '  ha-ha ! "  screeched  the 
owl,  almost  over  his  head,  causing  him  to  jump 
to  liis  feet.  Back  from  the  opposite  hill  came 
the  hideous  laudi  of  the  owl's  mate.  The  weird 
sounds  sent  cold  shivers  up  and  down  Tom's 
back.  Tlien  through  the  stillness  again  came  the 
"  Swish,  swish, "  echoing  first  here  and  then  some- 
where else.  The  moon  was  coming  up  over  the 
opposite  ridge,  casting  ccld  kisses  at  the  sparkling 
waters  of  the  brook.  Dancing  shadows  along  the 
hillside  seemed  to  take  on  shapes  which  moved 
along  the  road,  dodging  in  and  out  of  the  woods. 
Bits  of  rotten  wood  about  the  forest  gave  ou1> 
phosphorescent  fire,  like  phantom  eyes  which 
winked  and  stared  until  one's  face  was  turned 
away.  Turn  which  way  he  would,  Tom  could 
hear  the  "Swish,  swish"  which  sent  the  blood 
tingling  through  his  face,  and  cokl  chills  up  and 
down    his    back. 

Suddenly,  dropping  on  one  knee,  he  raised  his 
carbine  to  fire.  Slowly  it  was  recovered,  the 
hammer  lowered  to  its  place.  The  blood  was 
frozen  in  his  veins.  The  carbine  fell  from  his 
hands  to  the  ground,  and,  Avith  eyes  straining 
out  of  their  sockets,  he  bounded  away  up  the  hill- 
side, over  the  low  ridge  into  the  arms  of  his 
comrades,  who,  disturbed  by  the  owls  and  hear- 
ing Tom's  approach  over  the  rough  ground,  were 
ready  to  fight  or  run,  as  circumstances  might  dic- 
tate. 

"Oh,  boys!  I  have  seen  a  ghost;  the  most 
frightful  thing!  Death  on  a  white  horse.  Oht 
I  know  I  am  going  to  be  killed,  boys.  It  is  a 
warning  sent  to  me,  I  laiow;  just  a  white  horse. 
It  did  not  walk,  it  floated  through  the  air.  It 
was  without  rider,  and  I  could  see  right  through 
it  as  it  moved  along.  Oh,  boysl  it  was  terrible  1" 
And  Tom  hid  his  face  in  his  hands. 

"Wliy  didn't  you  shoot,  Tom?"  asked  Dan. 

"Oh,  I  tried  to,  but  didn't  have  strength.  I 
tried  to  pull,  but  it  would  not  go,  and  I  dropped 
my  gun  and  came  in." 

"  I  should  say  you  did  come  in,"  exclaimed  BllL 
"  Come  on,  we  will  go  with  you  and  get  your 
horse  and  carbine,  if  the  ghost  has  not  taikeu 
them  along." 

Tom  had  been  in  many  battles,  and  his  comrades 
knew  he  was  no  coward,  but  there  is  something 
in  the  darkness  of  the  night,  the  rustling  of  the 
leaves,  the  chirping:  of  the  night  birds,  the  shad- 
ows dancing  on  the  limbs,  whicli  makes  men  hesi- 
tate to  be  alone. 

The  three  men  crouched  about  the  foot  of  a 
great  oak  tree  until  it  became  light  in  the  morn- 
ing. Then  they  searched  the  road  for  signs  of 
the  horse,  but  found  none. 

ALL  ON  DUTT  AT   ONCE. 

The  next  night  Dan  Hays  was  on  post.  Bill  and 
Tom  near  by  sleeping  in  their  blankets.     Dan  was 


TRUE    STORIES    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    TPIE     UNION. 


65 


usually  a  cool-headed  chap,  But  ho  was  sleepy,  and 
his  eyes  were  getting  heavj-  as  he  stood  leaning 
agaiiist  a  tree.  Suddenly  he  started.  TIio  wiuws 
sighed  through  the  oaks,  rustling  the  dry  leaves, 
but  there  was  something  else.  Wliere  was  it  ? 
"Swish,  swish,"  "Swisli,  swish."  Down  on  the 
main  road  ?  No !  Up  in  the  trees  on  the  hill- 
side? No.  Where  was  it?  What  was  it  ?  Dan 
could  not  tell.  Again  the  owls  came  sailing  up 
from  the  run,  flitting  silently  through  the  tre;'.s. 
Their  hideous  war  cries,  hoots  of  derision  and 
laughter  brouglTt  the  two  sleeping  soldiers  t) 
their  feet,  muttering  curses  in  harmony  with  the 
owls.  Tlie  light  of  the  moon  was  just  peeping 
over  the  ridge.  "Swish,  swish,"  "Swish,  swish," 
came  the  sounds,  which  now  seemed  to  be  on  the 
road,  yet  not  on  tlie  road.  But  in  the  air  there 
was  something  more  than  gleams  of  moonlight. 
To  Dan's  eyes  it  quickly  assumed  the  shape  of  a 
horse,  twice  life-size.  It  seemed  to  float  in  the  air, 
riderless,  giving  out  no  sound  but  a  "swish-swish," 
the  said  sighing  of  the  spirits  of  tlie  wtjocl.  The 
svaters  of  Valley  Run  were  in  deep  shadow,  whis- 
pering, laughing,  sighing  to  the  spkits  in  the  air. 
The  three  guardsmen,  speechless,  remained  glued 
to  the  spot,  while  the  wliite  horse  of  death  floated 
away,  leaving  no  sound  but  the  sigliing  of  the 
trees,  tiie  murmurs  of  the  waters  Crouched  upon 
the  ground  near  the  base  of  the  oak,  tJiej^  again 
waited  for  morning  light. 

CAPTAIN  SMITH  HEARS  IT. 

Captain  Smith  was  then  let  into  their  confi- 
i3ence  and  was  requested  to  stay  with  them,  on  the 
post  the  next  night.  He  laugliingiy  agreed  to  this 
jlan.  The  night  was  dark  and  rainy.  Tlie  cap- 
tain and  Tom  sat  by  the  post,  under  the  protec- 
;ion  of  tlie  oak,  and  there  came  again  tiie  myste- 
rious sounds.  The  darkness  was  intense.  One 
3ould  not  see  his  band  before  him;  and  yet  there 
was  the  ghostly  noise,  first  in  the  treetops,  then 
up  the  hillside.  The  two  men  sat  motionless,  and 
in  a  few  minutes  there  was  no  other  sound  besides 
the  raindrops  pattering  on  the  ground.  Tliere  was 
tio  sleep  that  night,  but,  going  away  from  the  road 
1  distance  in  the  woods,  a  fire  was  built  to  charm 
iway  the  "  lonesome  of  the  night. " 

The  next  day  the  company  lieard  of  the  matter 
lomehow,  and  ghost  stories  were  the  rage,  every 
nan  having  one  or  more  to  tell.  The  captain  had 
fallen  into  the  habit  of  going  over  to  old  John's 
jvery  day  upon  one  excuse  and  another,  but  gen- 
erally "  to  see  tlie  eld  man, "  who  was  very  sick. 
Margaret  was  getting  ready  to  go  to  Chattanooga, 
md  he  said  he  would  go  Avith  her  and  get  the  mail 
for  the  company,  and  they  went  aWay  together, 
joming  back  just  before  night.  Miss  Margaret 
svent  to  the  stable  and  put  out  her  own  ugly  brute 
)f  a  horse.  The  captain,  going  into  the  house, 
waited  for  the  mother  to  prepare  supper,  wliich 
was  soon  ready.  Then,  going  back  to  the  camp 
with  the  company  mail,  he  joined  the  outpost  at 
Valley  Run. 

"Now.  boys."  ordered  the  captain,  "there  must 
be  no  shooting  to-night.  If  any  one  must  fire  his 
jun  I  will  be  the  one.  You,  Tom.  stay  here  on 
the  trail.  BUI  will  go  up  the  valley  a  few  rods, 
and  Dan  down  on  the  main  road." 


"BANG,   BANG." 

Thus  posted,  the  captain  himself  went  down  the 
run  toward  eld  John's,  where  he  found  a  view  of 
the  run  up  and  down  for  several  rods.  The  rip- 
pling of  the  waters  was  the  only  sound  for  hours. 
Then  the  chatter  of  the  owls  began,  first  low 
laughs,  swelling  into  hoots  and  wails.  From  their 
nesting-places  along  the  run  they  seemed  to  dis- 
pute the  right  of  man  or  spirit  of  the  night. 

Dan  was  first  to  be  startled.  An  owi  sat  in  a 
tree  over  his  head  and  mingled  liis  screechts  with 
the  moaning  of  the  trees,  Then  to  his  ears  came 
the  other  sound,  the  "Swish.  SAvish."  The  woods 
seemed  filled  with  invisible  spirits.  It  \ta5  too 
much  for  his  nerves,  and  he  forgot  even  his  com- 
rades, starting  down  the  trail  toward  the  camp 
two  miles  away.  The  owls  hooted  and  seemed  to 
laugh  in  derision.  He  gave  fuU  play  to  liis  legs. 
"  Hoo,  hoo  I  ha,  ha,"  the  owls  called  after  him, 
freezing  the  marrow  in  his  bones.  Bill  and  Tom 
hugged  close  to  the  tree,  seeking  its  shelter  as  if 
from  leaden  hail  in  the  field  of  battle. 

Captain  Smitli,  close  down  by  the  rippling 
waters,  was  startled,  between  the  screeching  of 
the  owls,  by  the  sounds  which  had  so  alarmed  Ids 
men.  "Swish,  swish,"  around  a  bend  of  the  run 
came  the  sounds,  not  on  the  road,  but  in  the  water. 
It  was  the  "  White  Horse  of  Death. "  The  water 
sparkled  in  the  moonlight  as  the  horse  moved  al- 
most noiselessly  along.  It  was  a  moment  of 
fright  for  the  captain,  the  cold  chills  chasing 
the  blood  out  of  his  body.  But  quickly  gaining 
his  senses,  he  challenged,  "Halt,  there!''  The 
ghostly  horse  stopped  for  an  instant  only,  then 
sprang  out  of  the  stream  and  up  the  hillside.  Cap- 
tain Smith  again  cried  "Halt!"  and  his  carbine 
flashed.  Almost  at  the  same  time  with  the  echo 
of  his  carbine  there  came  screams  of  terror  from 
the  direction  the  horse  had  taken.  Tom  and  Bill 
had  caught  sight  of  the  ghost  as  it  sprang  away 
from  the  water.  The  captain  fired  once,  twice, 
three  times;  and  each  time  the  flashes  of  the  gun 
mingled  with  the  cries  of  the  ghost  as  it  disap- 
peared up  the  hillside.  The  captain  jumped  in 
the  water  knee  deep  and  hurriedly  followed  across 
and  up  through  the  'woods.  Tom  and  Bill  ran  to 
tlie  captain's  assistance.  They  searched  up  and 
down  the  banlcs  for  an  hour.  Then,  with  a  feel- 
ing of  t<^rror  at  the  disappearance  of  the  captain, 
they,  too,  started  for  the  camp,  which  was  eoon 
as  badly  alarmed  as  themselves. 

The  captain  went  out  of  hearing  over  the  hills, 
guided  for  a  time  by  the  clatter  of  horse's  hoofs 
en  the  loose  stones,  and  then  all  was  still.  Tlie 
moon  was  high  as  he  sat  down  upon  a  stone  to 
rest,  the  perspiration  running  off  his  face  in  big 
drops.  All  around  lum  as  far  as  he  cauld  see  was 
thick  woods.  His  face  and  hands  were  bleeding 
from  the  tumbles  he  had  received.  His  ears  heard 
no  sound  but  the  thumping  of  his  o'wn  heart.  After 
regainiiig  his  breath  he  set  out  again,  moving 
slowly  .about,  calling  his  companions  but  receiving 
no  reply.  He  scraped  piles  of  leaves  together  and 
built  small  fires  and  moved  from  point  to  point 
about  the  hills  all  night,  lost  in  the  woods. 

Daylight  came  at  last  to  show  him  tlie  way. 
He  followed  the  run  down  to  the  point  of  the  ad- 


66 


LIBRAE Y    OF    TRIBUNE    EXTIL4S. 


venture  the  night  before,  and  there  found  a  horse"8 
tracks  leaving  the  bed  of  the  stream.     Ife  followed 
the  trail  easily,  in  the  light  of  the  morning,  and  a 
half  mile   or   so   away  from  the  water  lie   found 
dead    the  ghost,  Margaret's  old  white  horse,  sad- 
dled and  bridled,  and  a  pair  of  great  leather  sad- 
dle-bags, fiUed  with  bread,  cooked  meats,  tea,  salt 
and  sugar.     The  old  horse  with  a  bullet  through 
Lis  neck  had,  in  his  last  moments,  fallen  on  his 
eide  upon  the  rocks.       Captain   Smith  h^d  eeen 
those  saddle-bags  before  and  all  the  outfit ;  and  it 
•was  for  the  owner  of  them  that  he  wandered  about 
the  woods  for  a  time. 

BREAKFAST    AT  OLD   JOHN-S. 

Then,  going  back  to  the  dead  animal,  he  pulled 
©ft  the  saddle,  bridle  and  saddlc-bags.  With  the 
outfit  on  his  back,  and  hungrily  munching  the 
meat  and  bread  found  in  the  bags,  he  started  down 
the  hill  to  old  John's  house  in  the  valley,  keeping 
out  of  sight  of  Ms  men  who  were  up  the  valley 
looking  for  him.  He  went  to  the  house  by  the 
back  way.  Throwing  the  saddle  and  bridle  down 
on  the  porch,  he  entered  and  found  the  old  mother 
cooking  breakfast.  She  scarcely  looked  up  from 
her  worlv. 

Captain  Smith  inquired :  "  Mother,  where  is 
Margaret  this  morning  ? " 

"She  ain't  up  yet,"  said  the  mother. 
"  Go  and  tell  her  that  I  liave  come  to  breakfast 
with  j'ou,  and  I  cannot  stay  long." 

In  a  short  time  Margaret  came  into  the  dining- 
foom.  There  was  coffee,  bacon  and  hot  corn  pone 
upon  the  table.  She  cast  only  a  glance  at  the 
eaptain;  but  he  had  such  a  comical  look  on  his 
face,  as  he  extended  his  hand,  that  she  could  not 
deny  his  greeting.  Her  eyes  were  red,  her  face 
ehapped  and  blistered  by  the  wind,  her  hands 
scratched  and  almost  bleeding. 

"Margaret,  hovv  did  you  get  home?  Why  did 
you  run  away  from  me  last  night?" 

Their  eyes  met— his  in  pity  and  admiration,  hers 
in  resen1;ment. 

"  Captain  Smith,  you  have  my  brothers'  break- 
fast in  those  saddle-bags.  They  Avill  go  hungry  to- 
day." 

"Yes,  Margaret,  and  I  was  obliged  to  kill  the 
ghost  of  Valley  Eun  to  get  it.  I  am  sorry  I  had 
to  do  that.  I  was  not  sure  it  was  you  until  I 
fired.  The  old  white  ghost  has  fmislied  carrying 
rations.  I  will  have  to  get  you  a  better  one ;  but, 
Margaret,  I  want  those  letters  and  papers  you  have, 
the  ones  you  brought  from  Chattanooga  yester- 
day. Give  them  to  me  quick,  then  we  will  sit 
down  to  breakfast  before  everything  is  cold.  I 
don't  like  cold  corn  pone." 

"They  are  in  the  saddle-bags.  Captain:  take 
them  out  yourself.  I  won't  touch  them;  but  you 
are  an  awful  mean  wretch,  and  I  don't  like  you. 
Just  think  of  mv  brothers,  how  hungry  they  will 
be  to-day,  waiting  for  me  I  They  will  get  even 
with  you  for  this." 

Captain  Smith  seated  her  at  the  table,  placed  a 
ehair  for  himself  at  her  side,  rapidly  devoured  the 
corn  pone  and  bacon.  Then,  taking  the  papers 
out  of  the  saddle-bags,  putting  them  in  his  inside 
pocket,  he  gave  Margaret's  hand  a  little  squeeze, 
put  his  arms  around  the  mother  aod  kissed  her  on 
the  cheek,  and  ran  out  of  the  house.  And  this  is  all 
I  know  of  the  ghost  of  Valley  Eun.— (Charles  E. 
Belknap. 


WHERE  BULLETS  FLEW  THICK 


THE    lOTH   ILLINOIS   AT   KENESAW. 


A    LUCKY    REGIMEN^T    WHICH.    HOWEVER.    IX    A 

LATER    FIGHT    LOST    MORE    MEN    THAN 

IN    THE    REST    OF    ITS    THREE 

YEARS'    SERVICE. 

Springfield,  111.,  July  30.-The  campaign  wliich 
beoan  on  the  1st  of  May.   1864,  at  Chattanooga 
and  ended  on  the  1st  of  September  in  the  crush- 
ing  of   Hood's   lines   at   Jonesboro,    thereby   forc- 
ing  the   fall    of   Atlanta,   was   one   long,    steady 
struggle    between    two    powerful     contestants    in 
the  game  of  war.     There  was  not  a  day  during 
those  four  months  when  the  Union  troops  were 
out  of  reach  of  the  enemy's  guns.     Not  an  hour 
passed   wliich   was   not  marked   by   the   booming 
of    artillery    somewhere    on    the    lines.     To     us 
"  dough-boys,"  who  wore  light-blue  slioulder-straps 
and  chevrons,  and  were  our  own  pack-horses,  the 
constant  marching  off  to  the  flanlc  or  front,  and 
skirmishing    into    position,    only   to   abandon   the 
position  and  go  flanking  again,  became  a  weari- 
some   iteration.        The     Eebel    commander     kept 
"drawing    us    on"     and    "getting    us    where    he 
wanted  us"  so  long,  that  we  came  to  think  him 
a  very  difficult  man  to  please. 

Our  marching  and  flanking,  however,  were  not 
always  accomplished  at  the  route  step  and  with 
arms  at  ease.  Many  a  brilliant  episode,  many  a 
spirited  struggle  for  position  marked  the  cam- 
paign, and  no  instance  of  this  is  more  deeply 
impressed  on  my  memory  Ihan  the  fierce,  though 
fruitless,  fight  at  the  base  of  Kenesaw  Mountain, 
June  27,  1864. 

On  the  19  th  of  June    our  division  had  worked 
its  way  by  inches  up  to  the  foot  of  the  mountain, 
and    it   lay   there   until   the   night   of  the   25th. 
It  held   the  apex   of  the  Union  lines,   and   waa 
the  hinge  upon  which  the  army  on  each  side  waa 
swinging  forward.     During  all  that  interval  the 
artillery   of   both    sides   was   throwing   shot   and 
shell  over  our  heads.     We  were  so   olose   to  the 
mountain  that  very  few  of  the  Eebel  sheUs  came 
into  our  camp;  the  guns  could  not  be  depressed 
enough   to   bear   on    us.     I   remember   hearing   a 
Vag  say  that  the  "  ex-pression  of  those  guns  waa 
very   threatening,   but   that  the   de-pression   was 
not   sufficient   to   make   much   of   an   im-pression 
on    us."     Even   in   the   hour    of    peril   men   will 
trifle  with  the  English  language.     Our  own  artil- 
lery   practice    was    magnificent.     The     5th    Wis- 
consin and  Barnett's  (Ulinois)  batteries  woke  the 
Eebel  cannoneers  to  a  very  lively  sense  of  their 
marksmanship.     Nearly     every     shot     was    sent 
directly  into   the  embrasures  on   the  summit  of 
the  mountain. 

Amid  the  noise  which  attended  this  inter- 
change of  compliments  we  "dough-boys"  found 
that  life  had  no  charms  for  us.  The  thunder  of 
the  cannon, 

"Startling  pale  midnight  on  her  starry  throne," 
prevented    us    from    sleeping.     Tlie   sharpshooters 
on  the  side  of  the  mountain  annoyed  us  so  that 
we  could  not  walk  about  comfortably,  and  the 


tkup:  stories  of  the   war   for  the   LTS'IOX. 


67 


•only  safe  way  of  going  to  dinner  was  to  seize 
a  hardtack  and  a  cup  of  coffee  in  the  shelter  of 
the  trenches,  or  beliind  the  largest  trees  we  could 
find.  Even  then  we  were  not  perfectly  secure, 
lor  many  of  our  men  were  wounded  by  the 
premature  explosion  of  shells  from  our  own  bat- 
teries behind  us.  Under  these  circumstances  we 
were  glad  when,  on  the  afternoon  of  the  25th,  we 
received  orders  to  move  at  dark. 

At  dark  we  were  ready  and  in  line,  but  no 
troops  came  to  relieve  us.  We  stacked  arms 
and  gathered  in  little  groups,  discussing  the 
movement  and  uttering  prophecies  as  to  our 
destination.  We  had  learned,  however,  to  put 
our  trust  in  no  man's  vaticination.  Anyl)ody 
can  prophesy  just  as  anybody  can  give  a  prom- 
issory note,  lipwever  poor  lie  may  be.  We 
therefore  possessed  our  souls  in  patience,  in  full 
faith  that  old  Tecumseh's  head  was  level  and 
that  he  would  bring  us  out  aU  right  in  the  end. 
Fiually,  at  about  10  o'clock,  a  bewildered  colonel 
and  adjutant,  who  had  been  wandering  in  the 
^voods  for  three  hours  with  their  regiment,  found 
and  relieved  us;  and  we  moved  out  to  the  right. 
Tliere  must  have  been  a  Ijad  kink  somewhere  in 
the  lines,  for,  after  a  little  languid  marcliing  and 
a  great  deal  of  vigorous  halting,  dawn  found  us 
still  under  the  shadow  of  Kenesaw,  which  lay 
silent,  like  a  sleeping  giant,  giving  no  sign  of 
its  hidden  powers.  At  sunrise  vve  started  again, 
and  at  7  o'clock  halted  in  rear  of  the  Fourth 
Corps. 

We  passed  the  day  there.  This  was  almost 
the  first  day  during  the  campaign  which  we 
had  spent  without  hearing  the  vicious  whistle  of 
minie-balls  about  our  heads.  It  was  Sunday,  and 
we  observed  it  by  personal  purification,  by  putting 
on  clean  shirts  (those  of  us  who  had  themj,  and 
by  recovering  the  sleep  lost  the  night  before. 
Wliile  we  were  sleeping,  the  wearers  of  the 
"stars"  were  a  waive  ami  busy.  Plans  were  being 
discussed  and  preparations  were  being  made  for 
an  assault  upon  the  lines  running  from  Kenesaw  to 
Marietta,  On  the  morning  of  the  27th  the  ar- 
rangements were  completed,  and  we  marched  out, 
all  unconscious  of  the  terrible  fight  which  was 
impending. 

THE    ASSAULT. 

JuBt  before  we  started,  General  Davis,  our 
Division  Commander,  said  to  General  Morgan, 
who  commanded  our  brigade:  "I  have  been 
thinking  tliis  matter  over  during  the  night.  I 
had  intended,  as  you  know,  to  put  your  brigade 
in  the  advance  to-day.  But  we  may  fail  to! 
carry  those  works;  and  if  we  do,  I  am  afraid 
that  the  enemy  will  assault  us  in  return.  I  want 
a  steady,  well-disciplined  brigade  in  our  own 
works-one  that  wiU  hold  them  at  all  hazards 
I  will  put  yours  there.  You  will  reheve  General 
SUnley's  troops."  So  the  thought  of  one  man 
clianged  the  fate  of  a  thousand.  In  obedience 
to  these  orders,  we  moved  out  to  relieve  a  brigade 
of  the  Fourth  Corps. 

"  Colonel,  you  will  move  your  regiment  right 
over  there  as  fast  as  you  can,"  said  the  A.  A.  G. 
pointing  toward  one  of  the  numerous  "hog-backs" 
into  which  the  surface  of  the  ground  was  broken. 


Now  the  A.  A.  G.  evidently  had  not  been 
"  right  over  there, "  or  he  would  not  have  hurried 
us  along  so  heedlessly.  For  on  reaching  the 
crest,  or  vertebra,  of  the  "hog-tiack"  we  found 
ourselves  witliin  pistol-shot,  and  in  plain  view 
of  the  rebel  lines.  Had  not  the  men  in  the 
trenches  begun  firing  so  rapidly  as  to  keep 
the  rebels  down  btliind  their  breastworks,  our 
brigade  would  have  suffered  seveiely.  At  length, 
however,  we  readied  our  position  in  line,  relieved 
the  troops  there,  and  waited  for  the  assault  to 
begin.  Hours  passed  by,  and  we  were  beginning 
to  think  that  it  had  been  postponed,  when  the 
signal  was  sounded  from  a  battery  on  our  left. 

We  then  saw  the  gleaming  lines  of  McCook's 
and  Harmon's  brigades,  regimental  front,  with 
flags  flying,  rise  over  the  crest  of  a  hill  in  our 
rear.  They  lassed  over  our  works,  went  down 
into  a  ravine,  crossed  a  little  ridge  beyond,  and 
the  dreadful  clamor  of  battle  began.  The 
batteries  thundered  peal  upon  peal.  Shells  were 
bursting  and  their  fragments  humming  over 
our  heads.  Shrapnel  and  grape  came  crashing 
tlirough  Ihe  trees.  Under  the  louder  din  of  tlie 
artillery,  the  musketry  firing  sounded  like  the 
rapid  popping  of  corn ;  and  over  all  could  be 
heard  that  infernal  rebel  yell,  which  showed  that 
the  enemy  had  not  yet  been  driven  back. 

Would  they  hold  their  position  ?  ilust  our 
brave  boys  go  down  into  tiiat  vortex  of  destruc- 
tion in  vain?  Can  we  hold  our  own  lines  if  tTie 
rebels  force  our  comrades  back  and  attack  us  ? 
These  were  the  thoughts  which  occupied  our 
minds  as  we  lay  tliere  and  listened.  Waiting 
before  going  into  action  is  terrible,  but  not  more 
so  than  the  suspense  of  waiting  in  reserve,  with 
our  friends  m  front  already  engaged,  and  we 
ignorant  of  how  it  fares  with  them,  or  how  soon 
we  may  be  needed  to  retrieve  what  they  are 
forced  to  lose. 

Presently  the  wounded  began  to  come  back, 
some  still  clinaing  to  their  guns  and  roundly 
cursing  their  ill  luck;  others  without  guns  or 
hats,  bewLLdered,  fliglity  and  scared.  Then  came 
the  "demoralized,"  whose  regiments  had  been  all 
cut  to  pieces,  officers  all  killed,  etc.  Then  the 
firing  ceased,  except  a  scattering  fire  of  musketry. 
The  ragged  yell  of  the  rebels  again  rose,  telling 
us  that  the  assault  had  failed.  But  the  enemy 
did  not  return  the  assault,  and  our  men  did  not 
fall  back,  although  they  had  been  repulsed.  With 
dogged  tenacity  they  held  the  ground  they  had 
gained,  and,  under  the  very  noses  of  the  rebels, 
with  no  better  entrencliing  tools  than  their  tin 
cups  and  plates,  had  begun  throwing  up  a  line 
of  breastworks. 

The  afternoon  wore  away,  marked  only  by 
picket  firing  and  an  occasional  outburst  from 
the  batteries.  The  long  June  day,  a  day  which 
had  lighted  many  a  brave  soul  down  to  tho 
dark  valley,  drew  to  a  close.  The  sun  went  down 
in  a  splendor  of  crimson  and  gold ;  the  moon 
shone  out,  softening  with  her  mild  light  the 
sharp  lines  of  agony  on  the  faces  of  the  dead 
and  wounded  who  yet  lay  on  the  field.  With 
the  darkness  the  stretcher-bearers  came.  All 
night  long  they  tramped  to  and  fro,  bearing  tlieir 
burdens  of  maimed  and   helpless  humanity. 


(i8 


LIBRAEY    OF    TEI13UNE    EXTKAS. 


A    TRUCE    FOR    ONE    DAT. 

Next  day  there  Avas  a  truce,  to  allow  tlie  dead 
to  be  buried,  aud  I  went  out  to  tlie  front  line. 
As  I  appjoaohed  it  T  ceased  to  wonder  that  our 
men  had  failed  to  carry  the  enemy's  works.  The 
ground  was  broken  into  ridges,  in  going  over 
wliich  the  integrity  of  the  assaulting  column 
had  necessarily  beeii  destroyed  to  some  extent. 
The  whole  lield  was  exposed  to  a  murderous 
eulilading  fue  from  batteries  on  either  side,  and 
the  heavy  earthworks  in  front  were  protected 
by  huge  headlogs,  a  chevaux-dc-frise,  a  dense 
abatis  and  an  intricate  trap  of  telegraph  wire. 
Tliese  were  the  insurmountable  difficulties  that 
our  troops  had  encountered.  That  they  had  held 
their  ground  and  succ*^eded  in  throwing  up  eaith- 
works  at  aU  under  such  disadA^antages  seemed  a 
miracle. 

Our  Avorking  parties  were  burying  the  dead 
just  where  they  fell  in  the  narrow  space  between 
the  lines,  which  were  perhaps  tAventy  paces 
apart.  A  few  feet  in  front  of  our  Avorks  Avas 
a  line  of  sentinels,  facing  inward,  placed  there 
to  keep  unauthorized  men  from  crossing  over. 
The  rebels  had  a  similar  line  facing  toward  their 
works.  Under  a  tree  sat  a  group  of  Union  and 
rebel  officers,  each  party  scrupulously  looking 
toward  its  own  lines,  engaged  in  friendly  con- 
verse, and  occasionally  refreshing  themselA-es  with 
a  friendly  drink.  There,  close  to  the  rebel  works, 
the  gallant  Colonel  Harmon  had  been  killed  at 
the  l^ead  of  his  brigade.  Here  the  brave,  bluff 
Dan  McCook  receiA^ed  the  wound  which  won  him 
the  stars  he  did  not  live  to  wear.  Further  to  the 
left  Avas  where  liarkcr,  dauntless  but  ra«h,  fell 
dead  from  his  horse.  Spurning  friendly  counsel 
and  courting  death,  he  Avas  persistent  in  riding 
into  action  in  full  uniform. 

At  2  o'clock,  the  dead  liaA-ing  been  hurriedly 
buried,  unknelled  and  uneoffined,  the  space  be- 
tween the  lines  was  cleared,  the  white  emblem 
of  truce  was  lov.-ered,  aud  the  usual  scattering  fire 
was  resumed  by  the  pickets. 

At  the  same  time  that  DaA-^is's  division  had  as- 
saulted the  enemy  in  our  front  attacks  had  been 
made  by  troops  from  the  Fourth  and  tlie  FiTteehTli 
corps  on  our  left.  All  were  alike  unsuccessful. 
Of  course  the  failure  excited  a  great  deal  of  spec- 
ulation and  "I-told-you-so"  comment  and  ex  post 
facto  prophecy.  Acc-jrding  to  the  "  special  cor- 
respondent,''  this  regiment  broke,  and  that  brigade 
lagged ;  tliis  general  was  drunk,  and  that  one  was 
coward];^' :  but  those  of  us  who  were  there  have 
an  uneasy  impression  that  the  rebels  and  their 
cannon  had_s.ometliing  to  do  with  the  repulse.  On 
the  3d  of  July  we  marched  unmolested  over  the 
ground  of  that  fearful  and  fruitless  struggle.  Ken- 
esaw  and  Marietta   had  been  flanked. 

IXSTANCES  OF  LUCK. 
General  DaAds's  change  of  mind  mentioned 
above,  by  Avhich  the  brigad'*  to  Avhich  our  regi- 
ment belonged  Avas  placed  in  reserA-e  instead  of  in 
front,  is  an  illustration  of  the  way  luck,  good  or 
bad,  seemed  to  attend  an  organization,  as  well  as 
an  individual,  during  the  war.  The  luck  of  our 
regiment  was  good.  It  Avas  a  strong  regiment, 
.well  officered,  well  disciplined  and  unusually  profi- 


cient in  drill.  It  was  often  on  the  front  line ;  but 
the  storm  aud  stress  of  battle  nearly  alwaj's  struck 
on  one  side  or  the  other  of  it.  Tlie  first  time 
we  Avere  under  fire  was  at  Now-Madrid,  Mo.,  March 
12,  18ti2.  The  night  we,  in  conjunction  with  the- 
IGth  Illinois,  drove  in  the  rebel  pickets  without 
firhig  a  gun,  established  a  line  800  yards  from. 
Fort  Thompson,  on  the  Alississippi,  thrcAv  up  earth- 
works for  two  siege  batteries  and  connected  them, 
with  a  trench.  ^11  the  next  day  Ave  lay  there 
under  the  fire  of  the  fort,  and,  I  believe,  fiA-e  gun- 
boats, almost  wiMiout  casualtj,,  while  the  troops 
supporting  us  in  our  rear  suffered  scA'erely. 

Another  case  of  luck :  In  the  scattering  of 
the  army  foUoAving  the  evacuation  of  Corinth 
we  were  shifted  about  and  finally  sent  to  Xasli- 
\-ille,  where  Ave  remained,  cut  oft  from  the  i^est 
of  the  world,  during  Bragg's  campaign  in  Ken- 
tucky. When  our  trcoiis  came  hsAik,  after  Bragg's 
retreat,  our  brigade  was  sent  out  fifteen  miles  on 
outpost  duty.  It  Avas  whUe  Ave  were  here  that 
General  Eosecrans  came  to  Nashville  and  began 
reorganizing  his  ai-my.  The  story  told  at  the- 
time  was  that  his  generals  bothered  the  life  out 
of  him  trying  to  get  their  particular  troop* 
assigned  to  the  Nashville  garrison,  and  that 
finally  "Old  Eosey"  lost  patience,  and  exclaimed; 

"By ,   I'll   settle   this  thing  right   now.     I'll 

send  for  old  Morgan.  He  is  iUe  only  brigadier 
in  the  army  that  has  not  asked  for  the  place." 
"Whether  the  story  is  true  or  not,  tAvo  things 
certainly  axe  true:  First,  "Old  Morgan"  never 
asked  for  tlie  place,  not  being  "built  that  Avay." 
Second,  he  Avas  sent  for  and  his  brigade  assigned 
to  the  garrison  &t  NashA-ille.  This  kept  us  out 
of  the  great  liattlts  of  Stone's  EiA-er  and  Cliicka- 
mauga,  and  AA-e  did  not  reach  the  front  agaia 
until  the  battle  at  JMissionary  Eidge,  and  even 
then  we  AAere  held  in  reserve,  and  met  AAlth  no 
loss. 

With  one  more  illustration  of  luck,  I  AviLl 
close.  During  the  Atlanta  campaign  our  i-egi- 
ment  was  transferred  from  the  Fourteenth  to  the 
Sixiteenth  Corps,  exchanging  r  laces  with  the  17  th 
New-York.  By  reason  of  this  change  we  had  no 
part  in  the  charge  made  by  the  Fourteenth  Corps 
at  Janesboro,  Avhioh  Avound  up  that  campaign,  and 
in  Avludi  our  substitute  in  the  old  brigade,  the 
IGth  New-lork,   was   handled   very   roughly. 

My  OAvn  connection  Avith  the  loth  Illinois 
ceased  soon  after  the  fall  of  AtJanta,  but  the 
records  show  that  i;i  the  last  fight  in  AA'hich  it 
was  engaged,  the  battle  of  Bentonville,  it  lost 
more  men  in  killed  and  wounded  than  in  all  the 
rest  of  its  tliree  years'  term  of  serAdce.— (Eicli- 
mond  Wolcott,  First  Lieutenant,  Co.  F,  10th 
Illinois. 

■ ♦ 

EXCITING    ADVENTUEES    OF    A    SCOUT. 

Bansville,  Mich.,  Aug.  7.— Feeling  it  my  duty  in 
the  sprmg  of  1862,  I  enlisted  in  the  11th  Michi- 
gan Cavalry,  and  in  the  fall  Avas  ordered  to  East 
Tennessee.  We  had  been  in  camp  tAvo  weeks,  and 
had  lived  quite  well  for  soldiers. 

A  young  lady  of  pure  Southern  type  and  beauty 
used  to  bring  pies  and  cake  to  camp  and  sell  them 
to  the  boys.  I  became  one  of  her  customers,  and, 
indeed,  became  'A'ery  Avell  acquaijited  with  her. 
Her  father  was  dead,  and  she  had  two  brothers. 


TRUE    STOTTTES    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    THE    UXIOX. 


69 


ill  the  rebel  service.  PLer  mother's  property  had 
been  confiscated  and  site  had  been  compelled  to 
hake  and  sell  to  the  soldiers  to  provide  for  her- 
self and  invalid  mother.  She  was  a  brave  and 
heroic  girl,  and  certainly  a  credit  even  to  Seoes- 
■eion.  I  think  she  was  really  more  Union  in  senti- 
ment than  reliel,  and  I  asked  her  why  she  seemed 
to  sitle  with  the  South.  She  replied  that  it  was 
because  her  ibrother  did,  and  tliat  that  mast  be 
riaht,  for  he  never  did  anythi^ig-  wrong-.  I  car- 
ried her  bask(^t  and  accompamied  her  to  the  picket 
line  on  the  day  that  we  had  this  conversation. 
One  afternoon,  the  last  on  which  she  ever  came 
to  camp,  I,  as  usual,  escorted  her  to  the  lines. 
She  must  have  had  a  presentment  of  comino;  evil, 
tecause  she  did  not  start  as  scon  as  usual ;  and 
she  said  :  "  It  seems  so  strange,  I  am  so  sorry  for 
you  poor  Yankees,  figliting  never  to  win."  "Do 
not  be  so  sure  of  that,"  I  said  ;  "  we  expect  to  win 
in  all  our  undertaldngs."  "Well,"  she  said,  "if 
I  can  be  of  service  to  you  personally  let  nie 
know."  I  thanked  her  and  grasped  her  hand, 
possi,b]y  longer  than  niere  politeness  would  dic- 
tate. She  excused  herself  and  was  srone.  Next 
day  I  was  impatient  for  the  time  to  arrive  wheii 
;she  usually  came,  but  slie  came  not. 

That  afternoon  there  was  a  rumor  that  tliere 
was  a  reliel  force  in  our  front.  Tlie  general  in 
command  asked' who  Avould  volunteer  to  act  as 
scout,  and  go  and  reconnoitre.  I  had  Ihf  fleetest 
horse  in  the  command,  and  wanted  some  excite- 
ment, and  perhaps  a  stripe  added  to  my  arm  for 
valiant  service.  So  I  volunteered.  Before  the 
next  night  I  wished  that  stri.pes,  ex^^itement  and 
praise  were  at  the  bottom  of  the  sea.  The  g-en- 
■eral  bade  me  God-speed,  but  to  be  careful:  the 
consequences  of  being  caught  as  a  spj'  were  well 
known.  I  toid  him,  '■  Better  one  man  than  a 
-whole   command   surprised   and   beaten." 

I  started  at  sundown,  armed  with  revolver  and 
carbine,  and  as  much  disguised  as  possilile.  The 
Toute  lay  nearly  due  south  over  mountainour^ 
country  and  small  streams.  I  went  cautiously  and 
had  no  mishap  or  adventure  vmti\  I  heard  the 
neighing  of  a  horse.  This  alarmed  me,  for  tear 
my  horse  would  reply;  but  he  did  not.  I  fol- 
lowed in  the  direction  of  the  horse  as  nearly  as  I 
could.  Suddenly  I  saw  a  faint  light  glimmering 
in  the  di^stance,  then  another  and  another.  It 
w'as  a  rebel  camp.  I  went  as  quietly  as  I  w;>s 
able  to  witliin  fifty  yards  of  the  camp,  as  well  as 
I  could  judge  by  the  starlight.  Just  as  I  was 
rabout  to  ride  around  to  the  south,  to  see  more 
clearly,  I  thought  I  saw  a  figure  in  the  bushes. 
I  at  once  withdrew  and  started  for  a  new  point  of 
A'iew,  when  snap  went  tlie  crack  of  a  revolver. 
I  hear.l  the  order  "Halt!"  and  the  cold  steel  was 
■at  my  temple. 

"'TVHiat  are  you  doing  here,  you  confounded 
Yank?  Oh,  I  see!  A  spy!  Are  you?"  I  had 
run  upon  tlie  vidette  picket.  Well,  then  I  wished 
I  were  in  the  Union  lines,  but  wishing  was  of  no 
use. 

"Wal,  you'd  better  be  gitiin'  off  that  hoss. 
Mister  Yank,  if  you  know  what's  good  fur  ye,  " 
said  the  vidette.  It  is  needless  to  say  I  dis- 
mounted. The  point  of  that  revolver  had  not 
moved.  My  horse  in  the  mean  time  gave  a  spring 
.and  was  off  in  the  darkness. 


It  seemed  an  hour  Avhile  I  stood  tliere  until 
the  sergeant  of  the  guai-d  came  w^th  tlie  relief 
and  I  was  marched,  with  the  said  revolver  stiil 
close  at  my  head,  to  the  colonel's  tent.  I  was 
placed  under  arrest  and  imprisoned  in  the  guard- 
house. No  one  can  teU.  how  I  felt  until  he  has 
1  .Hm  in  the  same  place  that  I  was.  I  groped 
around  in  the  darkness,  and  found  a  bench,  pos- 
sibly six  feet  long,  which  was  meant  to  serve  for 
c'f.'.ir  and  bed.  I  sat  down,  too  weak  to  stand. 
Wliat  a  change  the  last  few  hours  had  brought! 
1  >  could  see  nothing,  but  could  hear  the  tramp 
of  the  sentinel.  Morning  dawned  at  last.  The 
first  glimpse  of  daylight  came  through  a  knot- 
hole in  the  boards.  As  soon  as  it  was  light 
enough  I  stood  upon  my  bench  and  peered  out.  I 
could  see  row  after  row  of  rebel  tents. 

The  door  was  presently  opened  and  I  was  taken 
to  headquarters,  courtmartialled  and  sentenced  to 
lie  shot  ithe  following  morning,  and  taken  back  to 
my  dungeon.  I  sat  down,  perfectly  miseralDle. 
There  was  not  one  spark  of  hope. 

It  must  (have  been  3  in  the  afternoon  when  I 

heard  voices  outside.     1  heard  this  conversation : 

"  So  you   have  a  real  Yankee  spy,   have  you ' 

Now  I  want  to  see  him,  and  you,  Gus,  you  never 

refused  me  any  reasonable  thing." 

A  man  replied:  ••.Tennie,  I  am  surprised;  he 
looks  like  any  common  Yank."  It  was  the  colonel 
who  spoke. 

They  said  sometliing  else  whi,ch  I  did  not  hear, 
and  then  the  door  opened  and  in  walked  the  colo- 
nel, and  by  his  side  the  little  sutler  girl  who 
had  brought  cakes  and  pies  to  the  Union  camp. 
She  gave  me  one  glance.  We  recognized  each 
other  at  once.  I  started  forward  and  would  have 
taken  her  hand,  but  she  gave  me  a  look  I  sliali 
never  forget.  I  thiiik  she  would  have  fallen  had 
not  her  brother  sustained  her.  She  seemed  to 
realize  her  position  and  asked  me  how  it  all  had 
come  about.  It  was  the  colonel's  turn  to  be 
surprised  because  he  saw  that  we  were  acquainted. 
An  explanation  followed.  She  told  him  that  she 
had  peddled  in  the  Union  camp  to  lighten  liis 
burden  and  take  care  of  their  mother. 

"  Well,  Jennie,  you  were  always  a  mystery," 
wa.s  all  he  could  saj'. 

"  And  you  are  condemned  to "  she  said ;  she 

did  not  finish  the  sentence.  She  continued  :  "  I 
would  gladlj^  help  you  if  I  could,  but  I  am  power- 
less. " 

With  a  fcAv  more  remarks  and  a  hearty  hand- 
shake she  departed.  I  could  still  hear  them  talk- 
ing outside. 

"  And  so  you  have  ordered  him  to  be  shot.  How 
could  you  ?  He  was  so  kind  and  gentlemanly 
to  ine.  I  told  him  about  you,  that  you  never  did 
anything  wrong,  and  now  you  have  ordered  his 
execution." 

"Not  ordered  it,"  he  replied,  "but  it  is  my 
duty  to  see  that  it  is  carried  out,  and  that  I  shall 
most  certainly  do.  You  know  it  would  be  very 
wrong  to  let  him  go.  It  would  mean  ruin  to  our 
whole  force." 

"  Have  him  promise ;  I  know  if  he  promises  he 
is  too  manly  to  break  his  word." 

"  But  promises  will  never  do  in  war,"  the  colo- 
nel said. 

I  heard  a  sob,  and  then.  "  One  thing  more  I  wiiX 


10 


LIBEAEY    OF    TEIISIWE    EXT.liAS. 


ask.  Grant  him  a  little  respite,  only  lor  one  dajT- 
You  know  life  is  sweet  to  all  alike,  and  he  shoulil 
have  one  day  more.  Now  I  will  stay  right  here 
until  you  say  yes." 

He  was  silent  a  moment  and  then  said :  "  As 
you  say ;  I  will  give  iJie  order  to-nJ^M." 

"You  are  the  same  good,  noble  brother  still,"' 
she  said,  and  that  was  all.  But  her  wish  was 
gratified. 

I  don't  ithink  they  knew  that  I  heard  their  con- 
Tereation,  but  from  that  moment  I  began  to  hoix>. 
It  was  now  supper  time,  and  hardtack  and  coffee 
were  brought.  I  ate  some,  and  then  the  colougl 
came  in  and  said  :  "  I  have  given  you  one  more 
day,  but  be  prepared  tor  the  worst,  for  it  ia  posi- 
tively the  last  chance.-  I  always  have  had  a 
weakness  when  that  gentle  sister  is  concerned." 
I  undertoolc  to  stammer  my  thanks,  but  he  said, 
"Better  be  thinking  of  something  else." 

That  night,  lil^e  the  previous  one,  was  spent  in 
wakefulness,  and  shall  I  say  in  prayers.  I 
thought  of  mother  and  sisters,  and  wanted  to  send 
some  word  of  comfort,  but  that  was  impossi,ble. 
I  resolved  to  die  like  a  man.  At  last  another  day 
dawned  clear  and  warm.  I  could  see  the  rays  of 
sun  streaming  through  the  knot-hole.  I  dragged 
along  through  another  day,  and  almost  wished 
Jennie  had  stayed  away. 

Night  came  and  with  it  a  dainty  supper  from 
Jennie  as  a  last  offering.  I  found  a  small  parcel 
m  a  piece  of  cake,  saying  "  I  have  done  all  I 
could,  but  all  is  useless,  though  I  will  never  for- 
get your  IdndTiess,  and  pray  God  to  forgive  those 
who  have  condemned  you  to  your  present  fate." 
Tears  of  gratitude  streamed  down  my  face.  I 
tried  to  say,  "  Thy  wiU  bo  done."  I  sat  down  as 
usual  on  the  bench  to  await  the  coming  of  the 
fatal  morning.  I  cannot  tell  the  agony  of  that 
niglit.  Even  now  the  cold  sweat  will  start  as  I 
thj.nlc  of  it.  It  seemed  an  age  to  me,  alone  in 
darkness.  But  at  last  I  could  see  signs  of  morn- 
ing, as  I  supposed,  the  last  on  earth  for  me. 

While  thinl^ing  of  home  and  friends,  whom  I 
expected  never  to  see  again,  I  heard  a  musket- 
shot.  "Bang,  bang,  bang!"  What  it  was  I 
knew  not,  but  I  was  breathless.  I  used  my  bench 
to  look  out  of  the  knot-hole  in  the  wall.  Just 
coming  over  the  hill,  and  inside  the  rebel  camp, 
I  saw  a  host  of  Wuecoats,  and  the  rebels  were 
flying  iin  every  direction,  trying  to  form  a  line. 
The  Federals  were  too  much  for  them,  and  they 
broke  and  ran  in  confusion.  Tliey  went  flying 
past  the  guardhouse,  evidently  forgetting  their 
Union  prisoner.  As  soon  as  I  sa.w  the  last  blue- 
coats  coming  I  took  that  much-used  and  useful 
berfch  and  converted  it  into  a  battering-ram.  T 
emerged  from  my  prison  in  time  to  join  in  the 
chase. 

The  rebels  were  driven  about  ten  Jniles,  and 
our  victory  was  complete.  We  camped  tliat  night 
on  the  rebel  camp-groiind.  I\fy  fortunate  escape 
was  duly  told  to  the  boys,  and  how  they  came 
just  in  time.  But,  let  me  say,  my  adventures 
took  away  all  my  desire  to  win  fame  and  honor 
as  a  scout. 

I  never  saw  the  colonel  or  Jennie  after  that 
experience,  but  I  shall  always  hold  them  in  rev- 
erence.—(Cavalryman.  I    I 


THIJY    LOST   TWC-IHIBBS. 


A  TEERIBLE  DAY  AT  DEEP  EUN 


WHAT    A    NON-COMMISSIONED    OFFICER    OF    THE 
IITH  MAINE   WITNESSED   OF  THE  BATTLE. 

Whitney ville,  Me.,  July  11. --The  scenes  I  am 
about  to  portray  occurred  near  the  close  of  a  thi-ee 
years'  term  in  active  service  as  a  i^rivate  soldier 
and  non-commissioned  officer  of  the  11th  Maine. 
At  the  time  of  which  I  Avrite  I  was  no  novice  ia 
warfare,  and  was  'not  easily  startled  by  the  sound 
of  bullets  or  the  roar  of  artillery.  I  had  passed 
through  the  Peninsular  campaign  from  Yorktown 
to  Harrisov's  Landing,  under  McClellan ;  partici- 
pated in  tlie  bombardment  of  Charleston  lunder 
Gilmore  and  Hunter ;  and  shared  the  fortunes  of 
Butler's  troops  from  City  Point  to  Bermuda  Hun- 
dred, Fort  Darling,  Strawberry  Plains  and  Deep 
Bottom.  The  incidents  which  I  shall  relate  are 
more  vividly  remembered  than  previous  scenes,, 
because  they  occurred  nearer  the  close  of  my  ser- 
vice. 

Since  our  return  to  Deep  Bottom  at  the  close  of 
a  ten  hours'  fight  at  Strawberry  Plains,  July  26 
an.d  2  7,  we  had  performed  various  duties  such  as 
usually  fall  to  the  lot  of  ithe  common  soldier.  On 
the  flight  of  August  13  we  became  a  part  of  the- 
piclvet  out  at  the  front. 

A  few  hours  previous  to  our  departure  for  picket 
duty,  several  of  the  11th  who  had  been  home  on 
sick  furlough  returned.  Among  them  was  Charley 
Ilrann,  of  Company  C.  Charley  Avas  a  goo-l  sol- 
dier, and,  in  the  best  of  si^irits,  marched  with  us 
to  the  picket  line.  Through  the  night  his  recital 
of  stories  connected  with  home  was  listened  to  'by 
n  appreciative  and  longing  audience. 

At  dawn  we  were  ordered  to  roll  our  blankets- 
and  "  fall  into  line. "  Everything  had  been  un- 
usually quiet,  and  there  was  no  thought  of  an  ad- 
vance. But  when  the  line  was  formed,  Ave  Avere- 
deployed  facing  toward  the  enemy,  whose  outer 
line  was  not  500  yards  aAvay.  At  the  comoiand 
"  Forward !  "  we  moved  on  at  a  quick  pace,  wMob 
soon  brought  us  from  the  woods  into  a  slashing  of 
small  pine  trees.  We  could  see  nothing  except- 
withering  brush  on  every  hand,  which  gave  forth; 
a  peculiar  odor.  JS'o  sound  was  heard  save  the 
subdued  commands  of  the  officers  and  the  rustle  of 
the  dry  leaves  beneath  cur  feet. 

At  the  further  edge  of  <the  slashing,  in  pits- 
secreted  by  brush,  the  rebels  lay  in  waiting. 
When  we  had  cleared  the  shelter  of  the  forest  they 
opened  fire  Avith  unerring  aim.  Charley  Urann 
was  tJie  first  to  fall  dead ;  lie  had  visited  Ms  liome 
for  the  last  time.  Corporal  McGinnis  and  Private 
Beedle  were  next  in  Company  C  to  giA'e  fheir  liA-es 
for  their  country.  The  weight  of  ?he  firo  came 
upon  Companies  C  and  1.  Company  C  lost  six- 
teen men  out  of  thirty-two  ;  Company  I  fared  eA^en 
worse.  Major  Baldwin  and  Captain  Sabine  also 
fell.  In  five  minutes  forty  men  had  been  killed 
or  wounded  in  ;the  regiment ;  and  Ave  had  scarcely 
fired  a  gun. 

Tills  Avas  the  initiatory  skirmish  which  began  a 
fight    of   several    days'    duration. '   The   line    waa 


TRUE    STORIES    OF   THE    WAR    FOR    THE    UNION. 


71 


slightly  reinforced  and  a  charge  captured  or  routed 
the  rebels  from  their  pits.  We  followed  the  ene- 
my closely  and  they  were  driven  into  a  second  line 
of  works,  much  stronger  than  tlie  first,  being  com- 
posed of  forts  and  redoubts  connected  by  rifle  pits. 
We  skirmished  against  them  tlie  greater  part  of 
the  day,  w^hen  they  were  finally  routed  by  a  flank 
movement. 

What  followed  after  this  is  remembered  only  as 
a  continual  skirmish  until  August  16,  at  which 
time  we  drove  in  the  pickets  at  Deep  Run.  We 
lost  several  men,  bat  continued  our  forward  move- 
ment until  wo  drew  near  the  main  fortifications. 
A  halt  was  then  ^ordered  to  rectify  the  line,  and 
then  a  terrible  yell  was  raised  to  the  right,  which 
was  taken  up  and  intensified  by  us.  A  quick,  for- 
ward movement  began  with  the  yell.  We  soon 
reached  the  edge  of  the  woods,  at  the  border  of 
which  was  a  deep  ravine.  Across  this,  about  sev- 
enty-five yards  distant,  lay  the  rebel  works  in  full 
view,  lined  with  broad-brimmed  white  hats,  each 
one  of  which  shaded  a  gleaming  gun  barrel  point- 
ing toward  our  position.  A  rebel  flag  lazily  float- 
ed from  a  small  staff  in  the  works. 

As  wo  came  in  sight  the  rebel  muskets  gave  out 
a  roar,  accompanied  by  a  rush  of  hissing,  stinging, 
sounds ;  and  the  little  red  twigs  which  grew  from 
the  ground  suddenly  became  redder  and  toppled 
over  as  if  swept  by  a  strong  "^'ind.  The  terrible 
roar  continued  without  cessation  untU  I  thought 
every  nian  in  the  path  of  the  storm  levelled  to 
the  earth  except  myself.  Soldiers  were  being  struck 
and  were  crying  out  in  every  direction.  Dress  coats 
were  perforated,  and  wads  of  cotton,  twisted  out, 
were  flung  around  like  tlustle  down.  As  we  at- 
tempted to  enter  the  ravine,  it  seemed  as  if  we 
were  literally  being  held  back  by  the  hail  of  lead 
and  iron  which  Avas  hissing  by  and  bounding  from 
the  trees  with  a  peculiar  hum,  known  only  to  thosi 
who  have  been  under  fire.  It  being  evident  to 
my  mind  that  we  could  not  cross  Avith  our  present 
forces  I  jumped  behind  a  large  oak  tree  for  pro- 
tection. An  intense  hatred  of  that  lebel  flag 
which  seemed  so  near  took  possession  of  me,  and 
I  could  not  resist  firing  at  it.  I  actually  wasted 
three  shots  upon  it  before  I  camo  to  my  senses. 

The  white  hats  were  flapping  before  me  as  the 
enemy  hurriedly  loaded  and  fired.  The  sight  soon 
brought  me  to  effective  work.  I  then  noticed  that 
my  comrades  were  not  all  dead,  but,  like  myself, 
had  sheltered  "themselves  beliind  trees,  and  the 
bullets  were  not  all  going  one  way.  I  imagined  I 
could  begin,  to  see  a  thinning  of  the  rebel  ranks, 
when  the  order  came  to  ''fall  back,"  for  what 
reason  I  did  not  know.  I  felt  very  comfortable 
behind  my  tree.  I  "  fell  tin"  and  moved  back  with 
the  rest  a  few  rods  distant. 

ANOTHER  RUSH  AT  THE  WORKS. 

After  half  an  hour  the  line  again  started  with 
a  yell ;  and  we  joined  in  the  chorus  with  suili 
vigor  that  the  piaeries  of  Maine  were  thereupon 
conceded  a  superior  locahty  for  the  manufacture 
of  lung  power.  When  we  ha^d  regained  our  old 
position,  the  rebels  were  beating  "  f attoo "  with 
their  hefels  upon  the  tails  of  their  gray  coats.  We 
gave  them  a  volley  to  increase  the  speed,  and 
plunged   across  the  raAn.ne  with   the  velocitj-   of 


doers,  all  the  wliile  yelling  like  demons.  Tho 
works  were  ours,  and  the  yell  suddenly  changed 
to  a  regular  New-England  cheer. 

We  had  scarcely  time  to  recover  our  breath  be- 
fore several  rebel  batteries  opened  from  a  position 
far  beyond  our  vision,  and  the  shells  came  '/^aring 
through  the  trees  and  scooping  up  the  earth  in  a 
manner  most  uncomfortable  to  us.  Half  an  hour 
later  a  lull  took  place  in  the  firing.  Looking  be- 
yond the  work  which  we  occupied,  I  saw  a  number 
of  dead  and  wounded  rebels.  The  wounded  were 
anxiou's  to  leave  their  exposed  position,  and  were 
Avaving  hats  and  handkerchiefs  to  attract  our  at- 
tention. I  jumped  over  the  pit  and  spoke  with 
a  Avounded  rebel  lad  of  not  more  than  sixteen. 
His  right  leg  was  broken,  and  his  tongue  swollen 
from  thirst.  I  lifted  him  gently  from  the  ground 
and  placed  liim  in  the  bottom  of  the  pit,  after 
which  I  straightened  his  leg  and  bolstered  the 
"wounded  part  with  his  blanket.  He  begged  for 
water,  and  I  gave  him  a  drink  from  my  canteen ; 
and  with  assurances  that  he  should  be  cared  for 
if  we  continued  to  hold  our  position  until  night. 
I  turned  to  leave  him.  He  called  me  back,  and 
with  a  look  of  wonder  asked  me  if  I  was  a  Yankee. 

Unusual  activity  of  railroad  trains  had  been  in- 
dicated by  the  constant  tooting  of  whistles  in  Rich- 
mond for  several  hours.  The  nature  of  the  work 
in  which  they  had  been  employed  was  made  mani- 
fest by  the  appearance  of  solid  masses  of  troops 
at  the  edge  of  the  'woods,  and  the  gleam  of  bay- 
onets through  openings  in  the  forest  in  A'arious 
directions.  Rumor  said  that  our  supports  had 
been  withdrawn,  and  were  already  on  the  way  to 
Petersburg.  The  oA-idences  of  fresh  arriA^als  of 
wbels  in  Richmond  caused  considerable  uneasiness. 
Doubts  were  freely  expressed  as  to  our  ability  to 
hold  our  position  until  the  approach  of  darkness 
would  enable  us  to  Avithdraw  in  safety. 

EXPERIENCES    UNDER    FIRE. 

A  heavy  force  of  rebels  noAv  attacked  the  bri- 
gade A\iiich  supportetl  our  left  with  great  fury  and 
drove  it  from  the  line.  This  moA-ement  exposed 
our  left  flank  to  a  terrible  crossfire. 

Batteries  Avhich  Avere  stationed  beyond  the  range 
of  our  muskets,  in  front  and  flanlv,  redoubled  their 
efforts  against  us.  Shells  screeched,  sputtered  and 
crashed  through  the  trees,  and  bounded  along  the 
earth.  Bullets  sang  and  whistled  about  us,  and 
gave  a  peculiar  thud  as  they  seA^ered  human  bonea 
and  laid  Ioav  good  and  Tjrave  men.  Hard  pine 
trees,  seventy  and  eighty  feet  high,  wliich  stood 
around  the  works,  Avere  stripped  of  bark  and 
limbs  the  entire  length  as  completely  as  could 
ha\'e  been  done  by  machinery.  Men  were  con- 
stantly falling.  We  Avere  ordered  to  shield  our- 
selA'es  as  best  we  could.  A  sergeant  who  had 
been  posted  as  lookout,  to  watch  the  moA^ement 
of  a  large  force  assembliug  at  the  edge  of  some 
Avoods  just  beyond  a  cornlield,  took  position  against 
a  large  tree.  An  officer,  deeming  the  place  un- 
safe, told  him  to  keep  cov(M-ed.  He  replied  that 
he  could  not  coA^er  from  all  sides  with  one  tree. 
An  instant  later  a  bullet  struck  him  in  the  head, 
killing  him  instantly. 

We  had  ceased  firing,  as  if  Avaiting  for  some- 
thin?  to  turn  up,  and  being  somoAvhat  exl'.austed 


72 


LIBEAEY    OF    TEIBUXE    EXTEAS. 


from  the  heat,  I  sat  dowu  ui)ou  tlie  root  of  a  large 
etump,  from  which  the  earth  liad  been  removed  to 
bulk]  the  pit.  I  had  been  thus  seated  onlj-  a  mo- 
ment Avhen  an  unknowfi  soldier  crowded  in  between 
myself  and  the  'stump.  I  moved  my  bigness  to- 
ward the  end  which  overliung  the  pit  to  accommo- 
date him  with  a  seat,  which  he  barely  had  time  to 
fill  before  "  zip, "  came  a  bullet  from  tlie  direction 
of  the  cross-fire  which  went  just  deep  enough  to 
furrow  his  face  and  carry  awaj^  both  eyes.  A 
bounding  shot  from  a  battery  struck  the  top  of 
the  pit,  scattering  the  earth  in  a  shower,  smashing 
the  head  of  a  soldier  who  was  peering  over,  and 
nearly  tearing  to  pieces  another  who  stood  on  the 
high  ground  to  tlie  rear.  The  next  moment  an 
unexploded  shell  struck  a  large  limb  from  a  pine 
tree  overhead  which  levelled  three  men  by  its  fall, 

THE  KEBELS  TWICE  REPULSED. 

The  force  which  held  the  pits  had  been  disar- 
ranged by  the  charge  and  doubling  process  caused 
by  the  cross  fire.  We  were  a  sort  of  cfisorganized 
mass  made  up  of  different  regiments,  but  tlie  men 
seemed  mutually  agreed  to  support  eaca  other  as 
long  as  possible.  We  had  considerable  confidence 
in  our  ability  to  resist  a  force  in  front,  by  reason 
of  one  of  our  regiments  being  armed  with  ri'peat- 
era,  which  we  had  heard  the  rebels  call  "eight- 
day  clocks."  Tlie  steady  tick  of  these  ''-cloclvs" 
an  opportunity  was  soon  given  to  hear. 

The  sentinels  excitedly  cried  out,  "There  they 
come:  There  they  come!"'  This  brought  every 
man  to  his  feet  in  an  instaiit.  A  long  line  in 
gi-ay  with  bayonets  glistening  and  flags  flj'iug  was 
Been  just  clearing  the  woods  on  an  elevated  piece 
of  ground  across  the  field.  There  was  nothing 
intervening  to  liide  so  much  as  a  button  of  them 
save  a  few  straggling  cornstalks  on  their  left. 

"Boys,  now's  our  time,"  said  a  big  sergeant  in 
Company  E.  The  officer  in  command  gave  the 
order  to  "fire,"  which  was  several  timed  repeated 
by  the  subordinate  oificers.  "  Fire  low  i  fire  low  I  " 
Our  blood  was  up,  and  the  cominand  to  '  cease 
firing"  was  not  fully  heeded  untU  some  time  after 
the  last  standing  rebel  had  disappeared  on  the  run 
into  the  forest  again.  Brave  soldiers  are  made  by 
giving  thehi'  plenty  to  do ;  and  the  jokes  were  free- 
ly cracked  during  the  next  few  moments  which 
intervened  before  the  next  crash. 

The  top  of  a  flag  was  now  observed  in  a  deep 
ravine  which  ran  across  the  field  in  our  front,  not 
more  than  fifty  yards  away.  Word  ran  along  the 
line  to  "be  in  readiness."  In  a  few  moments  the 
flag  began  to  move,  and  with  it  the  whole  rebel 
line  came  into  view.  Tlie  sight  caused  the  great- 
est excitement.  The  officers  tried  in  vain  to  make 
the  men  reserve  their  lire  until  tlie  enemy's  lines 
should  clear  the  ravine  lar  enough  to  warrant  its 
destruction  before  it  could  return.  Our  men  be- 
gan firing  almost  at  once.  The  rebel  color-bearer 
■was  shot  dead  on  the  brow  of  the  hill,  falling  for- 
ward upon  his  staff,  and  the  line  was  driven  back 
in  less  time  than  it  would  take  to  count  twenty. 

When  this  charge  upon  our  front  began,  the 
force  on  our  flank  began  to  close  down  and  renew 
that  terrible  cross  fire.  We  replied  as  well  as 
possible. 

No  order  had  been  given  "  for  a  change  of  front, " 


but  it  became  evident  to  Sergeant  (iross,  the  color- 
bearer,  that  he  must  retreat  with  tlie  fla^g  or  the 
banner  would  soon  occupy  a  position  in  the  rebel 
Capitol  at  Eichmond.  The  rebels  were  closing 
down,  not  more  than  thiitj^  yards  distant.  (Ser- 
geant Gross  tore  the  flag  from  the  pit  and  started 
for  the  rear.  Eemembering,  however,  that  no 
order  had  been  given  to  retreat,  he  turned  back, 
planted  the  staff  in' the  w:ork,  and  aided  the  guard 
in  its  defence  by  firing  several  shots  from  his  re- 
volver in  tlie  very  faces  of  the  enemj%  who  were 
bent  upon  its  capture. 

'  The  heat  of  the  sun  was  intense.  Colonel 
riaisted  had  already  been  overcome  from  that 
cause,  and  carried  to  the  rear.  The  wounded  had 
also  been  sent  back.  I  glanced  over  that  portion 
of  the  ground  which  I  could  see,  and  noticed  that 
dead  men  were  lying  in  great  numbers  in  every 
direction.  I  began  to  think  that  we  were  to  stand 
and  fight  until  the  last  taan  should  be  sacrificed. 
At  that  moment  the  command  to  "  march  in  re- 
treat" was  heard  above  the  din  of  battle. 

Our  men,  who  had  stood  that  ferrible  fire  for 
several  hours  undaunted,  then  gave  way,  and  made 
a  wild  rush  across  the  ravine  for  shelter  in  the 
forest  beyonil.  Sergeant  Gross  carried  the  colors 
in  his  arms  and  was  followed  by  the  guard,  one  of 
whom,  ho^wever,  fell  dead  as  he  left  the  work.  The 
flagstaff,  one  and  a  lialf  inches  in  diameter,  had 
been  shot  olf  in  three  places,  and  the  flag  had  been 
pierced  by  sixteen  bullets. 

A    RAID    KOT    ON    THE    PROGRAMME 

My  canteen  being  empty,  I  was  suffering  terribly 
from  thirst,  and  as  Sergeant  Googins  came  along, 
I  asked  him  if  he  remembered  the  location  of  a 
small  stream  w^liich  we  had  crossed  while  advanc- 
ing early  in  the  day.  He  thought  it  was  not  far 
distant,  and  that  if  we  hurried  Ave  might  fill  our 
canteens  and  return  in  season  to  move  with  the 
regiment.  We  started  on  the  run  and  found  the 
stream  as  predicted. 

After  quenching  our  tliii-st  and  filling  our  can- 
teens, we  attempted  to  return,  ))ut  obll<iued  too 
lar  to  the  right.  To  our  surprise,  we  suddenly 
came  in  sight  of  an  earthwork  held  by  rebels,  as 
ascertained  from  the  telltale  slouch  hats  we  saw 
moving  within.  Googins  thought  we  iiad  better 
gixe  them  a  few  shots.  So  we  gathered  up  a  num- 
ber of  loaded  muskets  wliich  had  fallen  from  the 
liands  of  our  wounded,  stood  them  against  the 
trees,  and  then  began  a  small  bombardment  of  our 
own.  OiUr  attack  was  replied  to  with  such  vigor 
fhat  wo  concluded  that  we  were  playing  the  fool, 
and  had  better  leave  in  a  hurry,  which  we  did. 

As  we  were  running  we  came  near  a  soldier  of 
the  1st  D.  C.  Cavalry  lying  in  the  brush  and 
moaning  with  pain  from  a  gunshot  wound  in  the 
body.  He  begged  |us  to  take  him  out  to  friends. 
We  rolled  Mm  on  his  blanket  and  with  the  aid  of 
another  soldier  who  came  along  Ave  carried  him 
out  and  gaA'e  liim  to  the  stretcher-bearers.  The 
poor  fellow  had  suffered  greatly.  He  Avas  profuse 
',n  Ixis  thanks,  and  said  he  belieA-ed  we  had  been 
tent  in  ansAver  to  his  prayers  tor  aid. 

UXDER    TWO    FIRES. 

After  our  return,  the  reorganization  of  li.ues  be- 
ing completed,  aa'c  AA'ere  all  marched  still  further 


TEUE    STOEIES    OF    THE    WAE    FOR    THE     LTN'IOX. 


73 


to  tlie  rear,  and  took  posseissioii  of  a  good  breast- 
work which  liad  beeu  built  tliat  day  by  the  re- 
serves. 

About  sunset  we  were  attacked  in  our  new  posi- 
tion by  a  large  force  whicli  came  near  to  ciriviu;i- 
us  out  by  reason  of  the  wild  shooting  of  one  of  our 
own  batteries  stationed  half  a  niile  to  the  rear. 
The  fuses  of  tne  shells  were  cut  too  short  for  the 
distance,  which  caused  the  shells  to  explode  in 
rear  of  our  own  men.  Many  of  our  men  were  not 
endowed  with  double  courage  and  they  broke  from 
the  line  and  sought  cover  in  the  forest.  An  or- 
derly was  sent  with  orders  to  the  battery  to  '■  cease 
firim;."  The  situation  was  desperate  and  the  officers 
of  the  regiment,  leaving  their  own  commands, 
assisted  in  dri\iug  the  'terrified  men  back  to  their 
position  in  season  to  save  the  pits.  Darkness 
coming  on,  no  further  efi'ort  was  made  to  di^lodge 
us. 

At  10  p.  m.  we  drew  from  the  line  in  silence; 
and  the  rising  of  the  next  sun  found  us  serenely 
sleeping  within  tlie  fortified  position  at  De<?p  Bot- 
tom. Our  loss  was  two  field  officers,  three  com- 
pany commanders  and  144  enlisted  men  from  the 
11th  :Maine  Regiment  alone,  out  of  a  force  of  bare- 
ly 300  with  wliich  we  started.— i Edwin  J.  Miller. 

A  TEIFLE  MORE  EXCITING  THAN  EXPECTED 
Montrose,  S.  D.,  Oct.  30.-The  brigade  of  cav- 
alry commanded  by  Brigadier-General  John  Irvine 
Gregg,  in  which  our  regiment,  the  16th  Penn- 
^sylvania  Cavalry,  was  incorporated,  passed  throusii 
Farmville,  Ya.,  as  the  army  was  pursuing  Lee, 
from  the  Five  Forks  toward  liynchburg.  On  a 
particular  day  (which,  if  my  memory  serves  me 
right,  was  April  6,  18(55),  it  Avas  the  turn  of 
•Gregg's  brigade  to  take  the  advance.  General 
Crook  was  in  command  of  the  division,  and  was  at 
the  liead  of  the  column.  After  passing  through 
Farmville,  which  had  bi^en  occupied  by  the  rebels 
oulj^  a  short  time  before  our  arrival,  the  column 
moved  on  over  a  dilapidated  planlc  road  a  couple 
■of  miles  or  so,  until,  from  the  top  of  a  small  hill, 
the  (-'ommauding  general  could  see,  along  a  road 
w"hich  we  were  on,  at  right  angles,  a  short  dis- 
tance ahead,  and  in  the  edge  of  a  piece  of  woods, 
what  appeared  to  be  a  quantity  of  abandoned 
;rebel  wagons,  wi,th,  perhaps,  a  few  sick  or  strag- 
gling rebel  soldiers  with  them.  The  wagons 
seemed  standing  in  the  road  with  the  mule  teams 
beloigmg  to  them  taken  away,  presumably  by  the 
frightened  rel^els,  who  had  discovered  our  ap- 
proach. 

ITie  road  upon  which  we  were  moving  ran 
through  a  piece  of  thick  second-growth  trees  to 
the  top  of  a  small  hill.  Beyond  the  woods  lay 
a  field  on  each  side  of  the  road,  and  just  in  the 
edge  of  the  field  a  deep  ditch,  made  by  the  action 
of  the  water  in  rainy  seasons,  which  crossed  the 
road  and  over  which  tliere  was  a  small  bridge. 
The  ditch  extended  down  through  the  field  for 
several  rods,  how  far  the  writer  had  no -particular 
occasion  to  estimate  a  few  moments  later.  Be- 
yond this  field  was  another  piece  of  woods,  and 
j.n  the  edge  of  the  woods  ran  the-  road  (at  riglit 
angles  with  one  we  were  moving  over),  in  whicli 
■was  the  (apparently)  nearly  abandoned  rebel 
•wagons.     On   one   side  of   the   crossroad    next   to 


us  was  one  of  those  peculiar  liedge  fences  so  com- 
mon in  Virginia,  made  of  twigs  of  cedar  interlaced 
around  sfakes  driven  into  the  ground  beside  a 
sliallow  ditch. 

When  the  officers  m  command  near  the  head  of 
the  column  saw  these  abandoned  wagons  the 
order  was  given  to  charge  in  column  of  fours 
down  the  road,  with  drawn  sabres,  and  capture 
the  wagon  train.  Quickly  the  word  was  passed 
along  the  line  to  "Draw  sabre,"  and  "Forward; 
gallop!"  Near  the  edge  of  the  field  the  General 
was  stationed  with  his  staff.  As  the  column  of 
galloping  cavalry  passed  him,  an  aid,  sitting  on 
h'.s  horse  by  the  roadside,  kept  calling  out  to 
"Give  them  the  cold  steel,"  and  "Go  in  with 
drawn  sabres,"  etc. 

Tlio  sight  of  the  unoffending  wagons  did  not 
inspire  any  great  amount  of  dread  in  the  breasts 
of  these  veteran  cavaljmen,  and  on  passing  into 
the  field  the  column  left  the  road  immediately 
after  pa.ssi(ng  over  the  small  bridge  spoken  of, 
and  with  sabnes  swinging  aloft,  each  man  strove 
to  be  the  first  to  reach  the  wagons.  Soon  all 
ordt^r  was  lost.  Companies  and  regiments,  officers 
and  men,  mingled  together  in  a  confused  and  un- 
wie'dly  mass,  all  struggling  to  be  the  first  to  have 
the  honor  of  capturing  an  empty  rebel  wagon. 
Tlie  horses  on  a  dead  ru)i,  the  riders  yellijig  like 
demons  and  the  sabres  flashing  fiercely  in  the 
sunlight  made  a  magnificent  spectacle  to  the 
Johnnies,  who  were  looking  complacently  on  from 
bphind  the  brush  fen.ce  spoken  of  and  from  their 
hidinu-places  in  the  woods  into  which  we  were 
(iaslii,ng  pellmell  at  such  a  breakneck  speed.  My 
horse  was  a  strong,  half-French  pony,  one  of  the 
fleetest  in  the  regiment.  In  the  excitement  I 
soon  found  myself  at  the  very  front  of  this  mass 
of  rushing,  yelling  and  dauntless  cavalry,  but  I 
did  riot  remain  at  the  head  long. 

Our  advance  was  nearly  up  to  the  hedge  fence, 
myself  proba1)ly  not  ten  rods  from  it,  when,  great 
Scott!  all  along  the  line  of  that  innocent4ooking 
covert  burst  out  a  column  of  blue  smoke,  a 
tliundering  volley  of  musketry  and  a  yell  from  a 
brigade  of  hylden  rebels.  In  fro/".t  of  us,  almost 
under  our  horses'  feet,  blazed  the  rebel  guns.  At 
the  same  instant,  down  the  road  we  had  been 
travelling,  directly  in  front  of  the  column,  and 
with  carefully  trained  pieces,  belched  out  the 
tlnuuhn-  of  a  rebel  masked  battery,  and  shell  came 
screami'^g  along-  the  road  v/e  must  retreat  over  at 
a  rate  that  \vas  startling.  Shells  with  fuses  care- 
fnlly  cut  to  explode  on  the  road  among  the  flying 
Yanks,  dropped  ^  like  rain.  And  then,  from  the 
woods  to  the  ri^ht  of  us,  suddenly  emerged  a 
brigade  of  rebel  cavalry  with  drawn  revolvers, 
charging  upon  us  like  a  legion  irom  the  regions  of 
the  damned. 

If  any  one  who  reads  this  account  does  not  think 
that  my  half-French  pony  did  some  excellent  run- 
ning about  then,  I  beg  permission  to  state  can- 
didly that  such  was  the  fact,  after  all.  In  an 
i.nstant  it  flashed  upon  every  man  near  the  front, 
and  in  fact  upon  the  whole  command,  that  we 
had  been  beautifully  trapped.  Sabres  were  thrown 
to  the  ground  in  the  haste  to  get  awaj^  Horses 
instinctively  whreh'd  about  ard  ran  as  only  horses 
can    run    wh<Mi    tlioronghly    fri'jhteucd,    and   when 


74 


LIBRAEY    OF    TEIBUNE    EXTEAS. 


carrying  on  their  backs  a  set  of  thoroughly 
irightened  riders.  To  attempt  to  get  back  into 
the  road  we  had  left  was  almost  certain  death. 
Shells  were  spinnino-  alot'g  that  road  at  about  the 
height  of  a  man's  head  as  fast  as  the  rebel  can- 
noneers could  send  them.  The  only  thing  to  do 
T?^as  to  run  directly  back  to  the  piece  of  woods 
through  which  we  had  just  passed  ;  and  to  that  end 
every  trooper  made  the  most  frantic  efforts. 

A  few  rods  this  side  of  the  woods  the  ditch 
(previously  mentiored)  intervened  like  ayuiammoth 
grave,  and  a  good  horse  was  required,  wi.th  a 
frightened  rider,  to  jump  it.  One  of  the  men  of 
my  companj',  named  Thomas  Dighton,  Living  at 
Erie,  Penn.,  had  a  mule,  wliich  he  had  captured, 
at  a  plantation  where  no  one  was  found  to  object, 
the  day  before.  Tlie  mule  was  not  well  broken, 
and  did  not  seem  to  care  whether  he  was  captured 
or  not.  Eight  here  I  wiU  say  that  our  regiment 
(the  16th  Pennsylvania  Cavalry)  had  Spencer 
carbines,  "  seven-shooters,"  as  they  were  called. 
As  my  horse  reached  the  ditch,  Dighton's  mule 
was  stapding  on  the  side  of  it,  braced,  and  refus- 
ing to  jump  or  to  do  anything  else.  My  horse 
made  a  frantic  leap,  and  though  the  ground  on  the 
other  side  gave  way  under  his  feet,  he  gathered 
up  and  in  a  moment  was  running  for  the  woods 
a  few  rods  away. 

Lieutenant  Norman  Ball,  of  Lewiston,  Penn. ; 
A.  W.  Bammer,  of  Spartansburg,  Penn. ;  Dallas 
Crosby,  of  Columbus,  Penn.,  and  a  Mr.  Holbrook, 
from  near  Union,  Penn.,  as  nearly  as  I  can  re- 
member, were  the  onlj-  ones  in  the  company  whose 
horses  jumped  the  ditch  and  escaped.  Sara  Staler, 
who  now  lives  somewhere  in  the  western  part  of 
Iowa,  had  a  small  white  horse  which  fell  into  the 
ditch.  Staler  jumped  from  him  and  clambered  out, 
running  for  dear  life  for  the  woods.  After  he 
had  entered  the  woods  a  li.ttle  way  he  stopped  to 
iiook  around  to  see  if  the  rebels  were  coming, 
when  to  his  surprise  his  little  wliite  horse  came 
suddenlj^  up  to  him,  liaviug  climbed  out  of  the 
ditch  and  followed  its  master. 

But  to  return  to  Tom  Dighton.  When  he  saw 
hifi  mule  would  not  do  anything  except  bray,  he 
wheeled  around,  facing  the  rebels,  who  were  com- 
ing up  on  a  charge  yelling  like  savages.  One  of 
our  company,  named  Ketcham,  from  Westmore- 
land County,  Penn.,  and  a  !Mr.  Moore  (who  lived 
near  Columbus,  Penn.,  the  last  I  knew)  were 
among  the  ones  whose  horses  could  not  jump  the 
ditch  and  were  captured  there.  They  all  vouch 
for  the  truth  of  the  bravery  of  Tom  Dicrhton. 
Wlien  he  turned  liis  mule  around  toward  the 
enemy  they  were  coming  up  on  a  wild  charge,  only 
a  few  rods  away.  Dighton  raised  liis  Spencer 
cailSIne  and  began  to  "  unwJind."  The  rebels  were 
so  near  that  every  one  of  his  shots  brought  a  ur.in 
from  the  saddle  of  the  charging  foe.  As  the 
seventh  and  last  shot  was  in  the  chamber  of  his 
carbine  a  rebel* officer  of  high  rank  rode  up  with 
an  oath  too  wicked  to  I'opeat,  and  raised  his  sabre 
to  strUve  Tom  down.  But  he  had  reckoned  with- 
out due  calculation,  for  Dighton's  last  bullet  Avas 
fired  poi^t  blank  into  the  breast  of  the  rebel 
officer,  who  fell  over  backward,  his  sabre  being 
driven  into  the  ground  under  him.  In  an  instant 
the   rebels   surrounded   Dighton   and    several   had 


pistols  drawn  to  shoot  liim  dead.  He  called  out, 
■■  Boys,  I  surrender,"  and  threw  down  his  carbine. 
A  moment's  angry  consultation  followed,  some  of 
the  rebels  saying  he  must  l^e  shot  to  aveuiie  the 
death  of  the  seven  rebels  lying  in  front  of  him, 
but  at  tliifS  moment  an  officer  of  considerable  rank 
rode  up  and  said  :  "Don't  shoot  that  young  Yank; 
he  is  too  IJTave  a  man  to  die  like  a  dog;  take  him 
to  the  rear  a  prisoner."  To  make  sure  of  his 
conimand  being  obeyed,  the  officer  selected  several 
men,  placed,  them  in  charge  of  the  prisoners  there 
l]\Ioore,  Ketcham  and  several  others  whose  names 
have  escaped  me),  and  sent  them  to  the  rear. 

General  Gregg  was  captured  near  the  bridae  in 
the  road,  where  he  had  stationed  liimself.  When 
the  stampede  began,  and  while  he  was  shouting 
bravely  to  the  fleeing  troopers:  "Eally,  boys,, 
rally,  boys ;  rally  around  the  dear  old  flag !  For 
God's  sake,  boys,  rallty!"  The  boys  who  could 
get  across  the  ditch  "  rallied"  for  the  rear  as  fast 
as  their  horses  could  carry  them :  and  Gregtr  kept 
trying  to  rally  them  until  a  squad  of  rebels  in- 
vited him  to  "rally"  toward  Lee's  headquarters, 
which  he  reluctantly  did,  with  nearly  all  hi,s  staff. 

My  own  horse  kept  on  running  toward  tho  rear 
until  I  found  myself  so  far  away  that  there  was 
little  doubt  about  my  being  safe  for  the  present. 
A  battery  had  been  lirouglit  up  land  placed  on  rt 
liill  to  shell  the  advancing  rebels  a^"d  a  column  of 
infantry  cam'e  slowly  alone  and  went  into  posit'/on 
to  cover  our  retreat.  Then  I  began  to  look 
around.  All  over  the  field  werf'  scattered  what 
remained  of  the  brigade  which  had  only  so  short 
a  time  bpfnre  marched  down  the  road.  The  lien- 
tenant-colonel  of  the  reeiraent  was  quite  near,  and 
Lieutenant  Norman  Ball,  of  my  own  company— so 
I  concluded  that  I  had  not  gone  much  too  f-ir  to 
the  rear.  Lieu+enant  Ball  wa^;  sliErhtly  wounded 
with  a  ni.^itol  ball,  as  was  also  the  lieut<^nant- 
colonel,  W.  K.  Eobertson.  After  awhile  the  re- 
mains of  the  brisTde  were  aathered  together  a"'d 
a  line  formed  behind  the  woods  throu.o-h  whiVh 
we  had  l"teen  so  iornomiiiiously  driven.  Tlie  ]  <ith 
Pennsvlvania  CavalrA'  and  a  few  stragglers  from 
the  rest  of  the  brisade  formed  the  short  line.  A 
sk'.rmish  line  from  tho  reb^^l  infantrv  cam"  up  to 
feel  our  positio'"  and  a  short  skirmish  wa.s  +h'^ 
r<^«ult  the  cav<ilrv  firin.?,  monn+ed.  a.t  the  reTiel 
skirmishers  who  came  into  iho  wo-^ds.  So  far  as 
I  know.  I  was  the  on'v  one  hurt  in  the  skirmish 
behind  'the  woods.  While  si.tting  on  my  horse, 
with  my  carbine  raised  to  shoot  at  somethintr. 
I  could  "not  see  what,  a  bullet  struck  my  sabre- 
belt  on  the  left  side.  It  glanced  off,  but  Imocked 
me  dowTt  on  imv  horse's  back,  alth.ough  I  did  not 
so  to  the  srround.  Holbrook  and  Dallas  Crosby, 
before  men+ioned.  were  sittinsr  on  their  hors'^?  near 
by.  and  Holbrook  said  to  Crosby  :  "  There— Butter- 
field  is  ki.lled."  But  I  aathered  un  and  found  rh'-> 
injury  '^othincr  more  than  a  sliiht  brni'^e  wh'Vh 
smarted  some,  but  never  caused  me  to  leave  the 
company. 

I  hav^  often  looked  into  the  different  histories 
of  the  Eebellion  for  an  account  of  this  cavalrv 
charge,  but  have  never  seon  one.  It  was  a  small 
affair,  comparatively,  but  there  ?,«'  one  thing  cer- 
tain—cavalrymen never  did  much  nobler  rinming 
during-  the  late  Civil  War  than  we  did  on  that 
occasion. 

On  April  9  General  Gregg.  Tom  Dighton,,  Moore,. 
Ketcham  and  all  the  rest  Avho  were  captured  tha_t 
day  in  and  about  the  ditch  came  back  to  the  reni- 
ment.  Lre  had  ,surrr>T!dered.  No  man  in  the  Ifith 
Pennsylvania  Cavalry  ever  had  more  credit  for 
actual  bravery  than  Thomas  Dighton.  And  he 
never  even  received  a  corporal's  brevet,  though 
Go^eral  Gregg,  who  was  captured  with  him  w.-^s 
brevet+ed  to  several  offices  for  bravery.— (M.  A. 
Butterfield.  "^^rgeant  Company  L,  Ifith  Pennsyl- 
vania Cavalry. 


TEUE    STOEIES    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    THE    UNION. 


75 


A  MOTHER  OF    THE  WAR. 


HER  UNEXPECTED  REWARD. 


SHE    GAVE   HER    HUSBAXD    AXD    TWO    SOXS    AND 
FINALLY    HERSELF. 

Providence,  E.  I.,  June  23.— It  was  a  pleasant 
summer  evening  in  1863.  Tlie  sun  was  fast  set- 
tincr,  ligliting  up  the  edges  of  a  dark  purple  cloud- 
bank,  whose  thunderheads  were  outlined  against 
the  sky  with  beautiful  zigzag  fringes  of  scarlet 
and  gold  colors.  Just  a  ripple  among  the  leaves 
in  an  old  stately  elm  tree  in  one  corner  of  the 
garden  announced  the  soft  dying  cut  of  the  twi- 
light breeze.  The  cattle  lowed  coming  up  the 
lane,  led  by  the  old  speckled  bull  Duke,  whose 
hoarse  bellowing  could  be  heard,  like  distant  mut- 
tering of  thunder.  A  motherly  biddy,  followed  by 
her  brood  of  cMckens,  was  hastening  about  the 
yard  eager  to  get  one  last  pick  in  the  grain  trough 
before  retiring  to  her  nesting-place  for  the  night. 

Mrs.  Maynard  saw  all  this,  as  she  reclined  in  an 
easy  chair  at  the  window  fronting  the  lane.  As 
the  cows,  headed  by  old  Duke,  Hied  slowly  into 
the  barnyard,  a  boy  appeared  coming  up  the  lane. 
He  was  whistling  a  taerry  tune,  and  as  he  ap- 
proached the  house  he  began  ; 

We  shall  meet,  but  we  shall  miss  him. 
There   will   be   one  vacant  chair. 

Mrs.  Maynard's  eyes  filled  with  tears  while  she 
let  them  rest  proudly  on  her  comely  boy.  Arthur 
Maynard  was  only  fifteen  years  of  age,  and  as 
bright  a  lad  as  could  be  found  in  the  town  of 
Putnam,  Conn.  Securing  the  cows  in  the  yard, 
Arthur,  leaning  carelessly  on  the  window-sill, 
looked  anxiously  in  his  mother's  sorrowful  face 
and  finally  spoke: 

"Fie,  mamma,  dear,  put  on  one  of  your  nice 
looks  now.  I  know  all  about  it.  Nod  Holly's 
mother  made  just  such  a  fuss,  but  in  the  end  she 
gave  her  consent  for  him  to  enlist.  Just  think, 
mother,  how  I  must  feel  about  it;  most  aU  the 
boys  of  my  age  are  enlisting,  and  the  only  ones 
that  are  not  signing  their  names  haven't  any  vim 
in  them." 

Mxs.  Maynard  could  hardly  suppress  a  smile,  and 
it  encouraged  the  boy  to  proceed,  "  It's  to  be  a 
grand  company,  and  I  know  quite  a  number  who 
are  enlisting  in  our  neighborhood,  and  three  years 
will  not  be  so  very  long.  Tlien  the  boys  will  come 
'marching  home.'" 

"Yes,  Arthur,  I  am  proud  of  you,  and  of  John, 
and  of  the  patriotism  shown  by  you  both ;  but  it 
is  becau'se  I  have  so  much  love  for  you  that  I  am 
so  reJuctanT.  to  allow  you  to  go.  Three  years  as 
you  say  seems  but  a  short  time  to  you,  perhaps, 
but  to  me  it  will  seem  an  age.  Can  you  not  rest 
satisfied  that  it  has  wrung  my  heartstrings  al- 
ready, at  the'deatn  of  your  father,  and  the  parting 
with  John?  Oh,  I  beg  of  you,  my  dear  boy,  not 
to  ask  it  of  me.  I  cannot  resign  myself  to  tliis 
third  parting.  You  are  rash  and  inclined  to  be 
headstrong,  and  will  rush  into  danger  under  ex- 
citement when  there  is  no  need  or  just  cause  for 
it;  in  that  you  resemble  John.  Already  he  has 
been  twice  wounded.     Yes,"  in  a  musing  tone,  "I 


am  proud  of  him,  but  fear  I  shall  never  see  liis 
dear  face  again." 

Overcome  by  her  feelings,  Mi'S.  Maynard  wept 
hysterically.  Her  husband  had  but  recently  died, 
and  to  her  two  boys  she  looked  for  needful  help. 
John  had  obeyed  the  first  call  to  arms,  and  was 
already  fighting  for  the  Union.  Now  Arthur  had 
been  seized  with  tlie  war  fever.  Truly,  there  was 
trouble  ahead  for  the  little  woman,  and  slie  could 
not  be  blamed  for  allowing  her  mother  love  to  seem 
stronger  than  patriotism. 

She  finally  looked  down  at  Artliur,  who,  with  a 
pensive  expression  on  his  brown  face,  leaned  for- 
ward on  the  window-sill  and  watclied  his  mother's 
face,  with  an  acliing  heart.  She  leaned  forward 
and  fervently  imprinted  a  kiss  upon  his  'upturned 
face,  which  was  returned  with  interest  by  Arthur. 

"So  do  I  baptize  thee  and  bless  thee,  and  give 
thee  into  the  keeping  of  the  Lord  thy  God,  now  and 
forever  more.     Amen  ! "  murmured  Mrs.  Maynard. 

Arthur  enlisted  in  Hartford,  and  soon  afterward 
his  regiment  was  ordered  to  the  front,  where  it 
participated  in  a  number  of  engagements.  John's 
and  Arthur's  regiments  were  so  widely  separated 
in  the  field  that  for  months  they  did  not  meet. 

It  was  the  night  before  the  second  day's  fight 
at  Gettysburg,  and  with  the  exception  of  the  pick- 
ets and  the  guard,  the  Union  Army  lay  wrapped  in 
restless  sleep.  The  wounded  ^vllo  had  not  been 
carried  from  th^  Celd,  lay  amid  the  dead  in  the 
grime  and  dust  of  the  first  day's  battle.  Now  and' 
then  some  wounded  soldier  was  rudely  awakened 
from  [his  troubled  sleep  by  pain  from  his  wounds,, 
and  with  dry  lips  and  throat  would  harshly  shout,, 
causing  those  who  could  in  his  immediate  vicinity 
to  raise  themselves  up,  only  to  fall  back  with  a 
pitiful  sense  of  helplessness  to  await  removal  from 
the  field  of  carnage. 

In  the  last  fearful  rush  of  the  conteSding  armies 
and  the  retreat  of  the  Confederates  thousands  of 
dead  and  wounded  soldiers  of  both  armies  had 
been  left  on  the  field.  Arthur  Maynard  was 
among  the  latter,  a  piece  of  exploding  shell  having- 
v/ounded  him  terribly  in  his  right  shoulder.  It 
was  nearly  break  of  day  iwhen  Arthur  recovered 
his  senses.  Slowly  and  painfully  he  managed  to 
regain  his  feet,  and  in  a  sort  of  dazed  way  he 
tottered  slowly  along.  A  deep  groan  from  'a  pros- 
trait  solflier  as  Arthur  stumbled  over  him  caused 
him  to  halt. 

"Water,  water!  for— the— love— oT  God— give— 
me— one  ."wallow." 

Mechanieall.A%  Artliur  Icnelt  down  beside  the 
wounded  oflicer  and  held  his  canteen,  which  still' 
contained  a  little  of  the  precious  lluid,  tremblinsly 
to  the  man's  lips.  The  olTicer  eagerlj--  drank  a 
swallow  or  two,  then,  through  tlie  misty  li.ght, 
looked  up  gratefully  in  the  face  of  the  lad,  who 
still  bent  over  him.  The  officer's  eyes  dilated,  he 
partially  raised  himself  Up,  and  seized  Sfthur's 
arm  in  a  desperate  but  feeble  grasp. 

"My  God!''  he  hoarsely  exclaimed;  "Arthur! 
you— oh— mother,       tell— her— oh— oh       too— late— 

tell "     His   form  fell  back   stiff   and   stark   in 

death  with  his  eyeballs  staring  into  vacancy. 

The  news  of  John's  death  and  Arthur's  capture 
by   the   rebels   nearly   drove   Mrs.    Maynard    dis- 


LIBEAEY    OF    TEIBCXi:    fZXTEAS. 


tiactecl.  Then  there  came  a  day  whea  the  Cluife- 
tian  Commission  reported  to  her  that  Arthur  had 
died  in  the  terrible  prison  pen  at  Ander&onvUle. 
Then  all  that  life  was  worth  living  for  seemed  to 
her  to  have  disappeared.  Truly  her  lot  was  de- 
plorable. But  the  good  little  woman  did  not  ut- 
terly despond.  She  bowed  her  head  in  submission 
and  murmured : 

'■  Thy  will,  oh  Lord,  be  done,  not  mine.  I  have 
given  both  my  sons  to  their  country.  Now  I  give 
myself. " 

Any  person  passing  through  the  General  Hospital 
in  Washington  in  1864  could  not  help  but  notice 
a  pale-faced  woman  going  about  noislessly  minis- 
tering to  the  sick  and  wounded.  It  was  ili's. 
Maynard.  ]\Iany  soldiers  had  their  last  moments 
softened  and  their  thoughts  turned  in  the  right 
direction  by  this  lovely  Avoman  nurse. 

It  was  m  the  fall  of  18  65.  The  news  of  Lee's 
surrender  had  reached  the  hospital.  It  encourage! 
the  wounded,  who  then  Icaew  that  as  soon  as  their 
■condition  would  warrant  they  would  be  sent  home, 
instead  of  to  the  field  of  carnage.  It  made  Mrs. 
Maynard  heartsick  to  think  of  her  desolate  home 
in  Connecticut.  The  surgeon,  who  knew  her  story, 
was  very  good  to  her,  and  promised  to  see  that  she 
was  cared  for. 

One  beautiful  morning,  just  a  month  after  Lee's 
surrender,  a  pale,  emaciated  boy  dressed  in  a  tat- 
"tered  soldier's  uniform,  applied  to  the  hospital  for 
admittance.  Although  most  of  the  sick  and  con- 
valescent had  been  sent  home,  there  still  remained 
a  few  to  be  cared  for.  The  boy  was  given  a  cot 
in  Ward  A.  Tlie  following  morning  he  was  ra\T.ng 
with  fever  and  for  two  weeks  Avas  out  of  his  head. 
^Irs.  iNIaynard,  passing  through  Ward  A  one  morn- 
ing, stopped  at  the  boy's  cot,  and  laid  her  hand 
gently  on  his  forehead.  There  seemed  to  be  a 
subtl^>  influence  in  the  touch,  for  the  youth  lay 
quiet  for  a  long  time.  She  let  her  eyes  rest  on 
his  pale  face,  and  noticed  his  sunken  cheeks,  the 
drawn  flesh  and  the  sharpened  nose,  all  evidences 
to  her  experienced  eyes  of  terrible  suffering.  There 
seemed  something  familiar  in  the  contour  of  his 
features.  Many  times  before  had  she  tiied  to 
draw  a  likeness  between  some  sick  boy  and  her 
own  Arthur,  but  the  resemblance  Avliich  seemed  so 
real  at  times,  had  so  far  failed  in  all  cases. 

The  sun  was  just  setting,  illuminating  a  pile  of 
jagged.edged  clouds  wMch  hung  above  the  hills. 
Mrs.  Maynard  sat  with  her  face  turned  toward  the 
wiiidow.  Her  thoughts  went  back  to  just  such  a 
scene,  when  the  distant  clouds  put  on  much  the 
same  hue.  Tears  suffused  her  ey??.  It  was  all 
she  could  do  to  restrain  her  feelings  and  not  _sob 
aloud. 

"  ^Mother ! "  The  words  were  faintly  spoken. 
Mrs.  Maynard  turned  her  head  and  looked  at  the 
boy,  witile  the  pupils  of  her  eyes  dilated.  He  laj' 
with  his  eyes  open,  pensively  regarding  her,  wliile 
his  breath  came  soft  and  faint.  Mrs.  ^NlajTiard 
gently  stroked  the  'boy's  hair. 

'•  Jlother !  "  he  uttered  in  plaintive  tones.  "  ^Vhere 
am  I  ?     Is  this  Heaven  ?  " 

Something  in  the  tones  of  the  boy's  voice  caused 
her  to  Ibend  over  him  and  gaze  directly  into  Ms 
glassy-looking  eyes.       Wliat  she  dit-covered  there 


nearly  caused  her  heart  to  stop  beating.  It  was 
her  boy,  her  Arthur,  returned  to  her  in  this  man- 
ner,  and  Arthur  recognized  his  mother. 

"  Dear  mother, "  he  said,  in  feeble  tojies,  "  am  I 
home  again  ?  " 

"  Yes,  my  dear  boy,  j-es ;  but  you  have  been  very 
sick  and  must  not  talk." 

The  sick  in  the  ward  Avondered  the  next  day 
what  had  come  oVer  their  pretty  nurse  to  cause 
her  to  go  about  singing  so  joyously  but  softly. 

As  soon  as  Arthur  could  converse  without  dan- 
ger to  hims'3lf,  he  told  his  story.  He  had  recov- 
ered from  his  wound  in  the  rebel  liospital  and  was 
put  in  the  prison  pen  at  Andersonville,  from  which 
he  afterward  escaped.  He  made  liis  waj'  finally 
into  the  western  mountains  of  North  Carolina.  He 
was  kept  in  hiding  by  Union  men  who  changed 
from  place  to  place  in  the  hills  as  danger  threat- 
ened them.  When  the  news  was  received  that 
General  Lee  had  surrendered,  and  Jeff.  Davis  had 
been  captured,  it  was  a  long  time  before  the  loyal 
men  Avould  believe  it.  At  last  the  news  was  con- 
firmed, and  the  North  Carolinians  separated  for 
their  homes.  Arthur  went  to  NasliAille  to  Mili- 
tary Headquarters,  but  found  upon  arriving  there 
that  there  \vas  no  provision  for  transportatidrn, 
and  the  poor,  emaciated  boy,  weak  and  nearly  worn 
out  from  his  long  imprisonment  and  exposure  in 
the  mountains,  was  obHged  to  beg  his  way  to 
Wasliington,  and  was  admitted  to  the  hospital  as 
the  reader  already  knows. 

Mrs.  Maynard  was  only  one  out  of  hundreds  of 
heroic  mothers  who  passed  through  some  lil^e  ex- 
perience.— (Stephen  F.  Blanding. 


NIP  AND  TUCK  FOR   LIFE. 


AXOTHER    STORY    OF    ADVENTURE    AMONG    THE 

BUSHWHACKERS— CHASED    BY    A     EEniON 

OF    FIENDS    INCARNATE— A    TOUN& 

WOMAN'S   MISTAKEN   ACT. 

Skaneateles,  N.  Y.,  July  30.— Readers  of  war 
history  lare  familiar  with  Sherman's  Atlanta  cam- 
paign, which  led  to  the  capture  and  burning  of 
that  ciity,  aind  subsequently  to  the  famous  march 
to  f!ie  sea.  I  was  with  this  army  under  Sherman 
in  the  Atlanta  campaign  in  the  early  summer  ot 
18''54.  After  passing  Kingston,  Ga.,  my  old  com- 
plaint of  malarial  fever,  accompanied  with  the 
'•  shakes,"  came  back  on  me  with  a  vengeance. 
One  morning  I  found  myself  too  weak  to  walk 
or  stand  up.  The  army  was  marching  right  along 
every  day,  and  I  was  left  behind,  lying  alone  in 
the  woods,  too  sick  to  move.  I  lay  there  all  one 
day  and  ni^t.  The  foUoAving  day  I  managed  to 
crawl  back  to  Ivingston,  although  with  the  great- 
est difficulty,  and  found  there  an  army  hospital, 
where  I  was  tafeen  in.  ]^y  the  aid  of  a  good  diet 
and  liberal  doses  of  quinine  I  Avas  soon  able  t'^ 
perform  duty  again,  and  was  put  to  work  as  hos- 
pi.tal  nurse  to  the  wounded  soldiers  who  came 
pouring  in  from  the  front. 

Not  liking  this  employment,  I  applied  to  the 
commander  of  the  post  to  be  sent  back  to  my 
r  giment.  I  was,  howeA-er,  detailed  for  serAace 
in  the  United  'States  Telegxaph  Corps  at  Kingston, 
and  I  reported  for  dutj-  to  the  operator  there.     I 


TEUE    STOEIES    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    THE    UNION. 


TC 


worlted  as  batteryman  at  first,  aud  altorward  as  a 
repairer  (now  kuowu  as  liiieinaii).  Subsequeutly  I 
became  an  oiJerator,  aud  upon  tlie  abandonment 
if  the  railroad  between  Dalton  and  Atlanta,  Ga., 
I  was  sent  to  Sprijigfield,  Tenn.  This  town, 
eighteen  miles  northeast  from  Nashville,  was  held 
bj'  tlie  Government  to  keep  open  the  railroad  run- 
r.m<r  to  Clarlis\-ille,  Tenn.,  another  garrisoned 
town. 

RUFFIANS  EVERY  INCH. 
The  whole  country  was  infested  with  maraud- 
ing bands  of  guerinas,  or  "  bushwhackers."  They 
formed  no  part  of  the  Confederate  army.  Where 
they  came  from  no  one  knew.  It  was  supposed 
they  were  natives,  deserters  from  the  rebel  army, 
who  lived  in  Robertson  County,  and  who  every 
few  days  mounted  tlieij-  horse.s,  and  armed  with 
shotguns  and  old  infantry  muskets,  started  out  on 
a  raid.  Whoever  they  were,  they  were  a  most  ruf- 
fianly, merciless  set  of  desperadoes  aud  outlaws  in 
the  truest  sense  of  the  word ;  a  meaner  and  more 
despicable  set  of  men  never  lived.  They  were 
land-pirates,  who  gave  no  quarter.  They  slaugh- 
tered without  mercy  any  one  who  was  so  un- 
fortunate  as  to  fall  into  their  hands.  Any  man 
found  outside  the  Union  lines  in  the  service  of  the 
United  States  as  a  soldier  or  laborer,  any  man 
caiPght  lwi,th  Uncle  Sam's  clothing  on  w«s  cooi- 
sidered  "the  enemy,"  and  their  natural  prey. 
Every  man  taken  prisoner  by  the  cut-throats  was 
either  hanged  or  shot.  Any  man  who  resisted  or 
fought  back  by  shooting  oiie  or  two  of  them  re- 
solved to  sell  his  life  as  dearly  as  possible,  when 
overcome  would  be  tortured  with  knife-cuts  and 
t_hen  hanged  until  he  died  by  slow  strangulation, 
the  bushwhackers  also  amused  themselves  by  cut^ 
t.wg  the  telegraph  wires  and  tearing  up  the  rail- 
road between  Springfield  and  Nashville  occa- 
sionally, or  between  Springfield  and  Clarksville. 
Hardly  a  week  passed  by  without  some  depreda- 
tion  of  this  kind. 

Tlie  fall  and  winter  of  1884  I  was  an  duty  as 
a  repairer  at  Springfield,  with  two  assJ.sta.nts, 
citizens  of  tlie  town.  As  soon  as  the  wires  were 
cut  It  was  our  duty  to  repaii-  them  at  once.  We 
would  mount  horses,  aud  armed  only  with  a  re- 
volver apiece,  would  start  out,  hujit  for  the  break 
splice  the  wire  and  return,  frequently  havino^ 
a  skirmish  with  the  "bushwhackers,"'  and  ex" 
chang7,ng  shots,  doing  more  or  less  damage. 

One  day,  in  a  skirmish  of  this 'kind,  one  of  our 
party  of  three  had  his  Jiorse  sliot  under  him  and 
he  was  obliged  to  dismount.  The  guerillas  were 
ten  to  our  one,  and  we  could  do  notliing  toward 
saving  our  comrade,  or  anything  better" than  to 
save  ourselves.  The  poor  man  was  found  the 
next  day  hanged  to  a  tree,,  Ws.  body  riddled  witli 
buITets. 

Once  the  "gang,"  as  we  called  them,  amused 
themselves  by  surrounding  a  section  boss  and  his 
men  who  were  worlung  o-n  the  track.  Tliey  were 
all  civilians— not  soldiers— but  one  poor  Irishman 
was  unfortunate  enough  to  be  wearing  an  army 
belt  witli  the  letters  "  U.  S."  on  tlie  brass  plate 
in  front.  This  so  exasperated  the  leader  or  "  cap- 
tai,n"  o7  the  guerillas  that,  walklrg  down  the  line 
and  observing  it,  he  raised  his  gun  and  shot  the 
poor  fellow  dead  on  the  spot.     The  trackmen  were 


all  unarmed  and  could  offer  no  resistance.  This 
deed  was  simply  the  promptings  of  the  devilish 
nature  of  the  "bushwliaclcer"  and  Ms  hatred 
of  anything  with  "  U.  S."  on  i,t. 

SCOUTl.VG     FOR     A     BREAK. 

One  day  the  operator  had  gone  to  Nashville  aud 
all  the  linemtMi  were  out  hunting  a  break  to  th'" 
north  of  Springfield.  I  had  charge  of  the  office. 
I  was  receiving  a  message  from  Nashville,  when 
the  circuit  was  suddenly  broken,  and  there  was 
left  only  a  dead  wire  to  work  on.  I  waa  cut  off 
from  communicatioiu  iji  every  direction.  This 
was  a  state  of  afll'airs  I  could  not  allow  to  continue 
longer  than  absolutely  necessary.  So  there  was 
nothing  left  for  me  to  do  except  to  shut  up  the' 
office,  find  a  horse,  start  off  to  find  the  break, 
mend  it  and  return.  This  time  I  had  to  go  ahnie. 
It  was  a  risky  business.  I  might  never  return- 
alive,  and  the  chaoices  were  that  I  would  not. 
But  I  had  no  thought  of  neglecting  a  plain  duty. 
"  Telegraph i,c  communication  with  Nashville  must 
be  kept  up  at  all  hazards,  ard  all  breaks  repaired 
as  soon  as  possible."  Those  were  our  standing- 
instructions,  which  had  to  be  obeyed,  if  it  cost 
any  number  of  lives. 

I  went  over  to  the  quartermaster  and  procured 
the  best  horse  in  the  stabhi.  Armed  with  a  Colt's 
revolver,  I  mounted  and  started  off  down  the  turn- 
pike, whi,eh  ran  parallel  with  the  railroad. 

I  had  proceeded  about  six  miles  without  finding 
a  break.  Ahead  of  me  was  an  old  blacksmith 
shop  surrounded  by  a  thick  piece  of  timber  and 
underbrush,  which  completely  hid  the  railroad  afp 
this  poinf— not  fifty  yards  away.  I  started  to  ap- 
proach thi^s  blacksmith  shop  with  tbe  purpose  of 
asking  the  old  negro  who  worked  there  if  he  had 
seen  any  "  bushwhackers"  lately  or  fenew  where 
the  wires  were  cut. 

A    NUT     TOO     HARD    TO    CRACK. 

Just  at  this  moment  I  heard  a  train  approach- 
ing from  Nashville,  and  suddenly  a  sharp,  short 
wliistle  from  the  locomotive.  Tlie  engineer  had 
whistled  for  "  down  brakes,"  and  repeated  the 
signal  once,  twice,  thrice.  But  the  train  could 
not  be  stopped  in  time  to  save  it.  It  plunged  off 
the  trac^  and  into  the  ditch.  Then  followed  tho 
"  rebel  yell"  and  a  volley  of  musketry  which  was 
kept  .up  for  several  minutes. 

The  track  had  been  torn  up  by  the  "gang"  of 
pirates,  who,  grown  bolder  with  increasing  num- 
bers, had  concluded  they  ought  to  capture  a  train. 
This  was  their  i first  attempt,  and  it  would  have 
been  a  big  success  for  them,  for  the  cars  were 
loaded  with  army  stores,  provisions,  and  the  mail. 
Ambushed  in  this  thiok  clump  of  bushes  by  the 
blacksmith  shop  they  had  quietly  waited  for  the 
train,  having  cut  the  wires  and  torn  up  the  track. 
They  expected  an  easy  victory,  but  the  train 
guard  was  too  much  for  them. 

Bravely  standing  up,  the  guard  returned  the 
fire  of  the  guerillas  with  fatal  effect,  and  was 
about  to  jump  off  the  train  and  charge  when  the 
guerillas  tab  for  the  road  and  their  horses. 

A   SPRINT   FOR  Ar,Ii  HE  WAS   WORTH. 

All  this  happened  in  much  less  time  than  it 
has   taken  me  to  write  it.     I  had  been  sittifig 


78 


LIBEAEY    OF    TEIBUNE    EXTRAS. 


^^uietlj'  om.  my  horse  in  front  of  the  blacksmith 
shop,  possibly  100  yards  from  the  tiring,  and  had 
scarcely  realized,  the  situation,  when  the  whole 
-gang  of  devils  came  out  on  the  road  right  in  front 
of  me.  Only  one  thing  saved  me  then  from  in- 
stant death,  and  that  was  the  fact  that  they  had 
all  fired  the  last  shot  in  their  guns  at  the  train 
and  had  no  time  to  reload.  One  or  two  of  them 
had  revolvers;  they  fired  at  me,  but  their  bullets 
went  wide  of  the  mark.  I  heard  them  wMz  harm- 
lessly by  me. 

I  turned  my  horse  and  started  on  a  two-minute 
^ait  toward  Springfield  with   the  whole  pack  at 

.  my   heels,  yelling,   "  Halt,   halt,   halt,   you   d 

Yankee ;  .halt  and  surrender!"  I  had  no  fear  of 
their  shooting  me.  I  knew  it  was  merely  a  ques- 
tion of  horseflesh.  They  hoped  to  run  up  along- 
■slde  of  me  and  knock  me  off  my  horse  with  a 
blow  from  their  guns,  or  catch  hold  of  me  and 
pull  me  off.  They  might  possibly  have  done  this 
had.  they  caught  up  with  me,  but  I  had  my  re- 
volver in  my  hand,  ready  for  just  such  an 
emergency.  My  horse  outran  theirs,  however, 
else  I  would  not  be  here  to-day  to  t«ll  the  story. 

They  knew  well  who  I  was,  having  a  particular 
grudge  scored  up  against  me.  Tliey  had  sent  me 
written  epistles  ornamented  with  skulls  and  cross- 
bones,  coffins,  etc.,  warning  mo  "  that  j,f  they  ever 
caught  up  with  me  outside  the  lines,  I  had  better 
say  my  prars,  as  I  would  surely  hang."  This  was 
a  grand  chance  for  them  to  hang  a  full-blooded 
Yankee  whom  they  had  good  cause  to  hate,  and 
the  race  down  that  road  was  pandemonium  let 
loose  for  a  few  critical  and  exciting  moments. 
But  my  horse  carried  me  safely,  and  I  was  soon 
at  a  safe  distance  from  the  furious  and  baffled 
gang,  I  did  not  hang,  I  am  happy  to  say,  al- 
though much  nearer  to  that  fate  than  any  man 
cam  be  with  any  satisfaction. 

Nothing  happened  worthy  of  note  after  this 
until  the  assassination  of  President  Lincoln.  The 
news  was  flashed  over  the  wires  one  April  day. 
Of  course  so  exciting  and  sad  an  event  as  this 
set  everybody  talking  about  it.  I  remember  well 
how  pleased  some  of  the  citizens  of  that  town  of 
Springfield,  Tenn.,  were  over  the  death  of  Lincoln. 
In  Nashville,  we  heard,  the  indignant  soldiers  shot 
down  in  the  streets  men  who  were  heard  to  ex- 
press their  gratification  and  delight  over  the  terri- 
ble event. 

In  Springfield  a  young  lady— the  belle  of  the 
town — came  out  and  asked  what  the  news  was. 
Upon  being  told  Lincoln  was  assassinated  she 
clapped  her  hands  with  joy,  exclaiming,  "  Oh,  how 
glad  I  am  that  old  beast  is  killed."  These  words 
were  reported  to  the  commander  of  the  post,  who 
ordered  the  young  lady  brought  to  his  head- 
quarters. Then  she  reiterated  her  sentiments ; 
thereupon  the  colonel  ordered  out  a  guard  of  negro 
soldiers  and  marched  her  around  the  square  at 
the  point  of  the  bayonet,  with  the  drum  and  fife 
playing  "  Eogue's  March."  She  felt  this  degrada- 
tion keenly,  but  walked  with  firm  step  and  flash- 
ing eye,  her  face  as  pale  as  death.  She  probably 
lived  long  enough  to  regret  her  words  and  change 
her  mind  in  regard  to  Lincoln.  The  whole  South 
eoon  came  to  realize  that  they  had  lost  their  best 
Iriend.— (C.  H.  Goodrich. 


SPJ^CIAL  OBDEES  NO,  177. 


co:mpelled  to  choose  between  Twa 

SONS. 


A    STORY    FROM    THE    RECORD     OF    THE     BRWE 
184TH    PEXNSTLVASIA. 

Thomas%'me,  N.  C,  Jan.  24.— While  the  184th 
Pennsylvania  Infantry  wfas  organizing  at  Harris- 
burg  a  lieutenant  came  to  camp  in  INIarch  or  AprO., 
1864,  with  tw^enty-five  young  recruits  to  be  muster- 
ed into  service.  The  mustering  officer  recognized  two 
handsome  boys,  twin  brothers,  as  the  eons  of  ]Mr3. 
Keys,  a  widow  residing  at  Milesburg,  near  his  home. 
He  objected  to  them  on  the  grounds  that  they 
were  under  age  and  running  away  from  home. 
The  boys  and  the  lieutenant  earnestly  claimed 
that  the  mother  had  given  her  consent.  They  were 
bright,  intelligent  boys,  and  ffreatly  admired  by  the 
people  surrounding  their  home.  The  eager  ex- 
pression of  their  faces  showed  how  strong  was  their 
desii-e   to  fight  for  tlieir  country. 

The  Army  of  the  Potomac  was  then  grappling 
in  a  terrific  death-struggle  with  the  enemy  in  the 
numerous  battles  of  the  Wilderness.  Eegiments, 
brigades  and  even  divisions  were  being  annihilated  ; 
and  the  burning  forests  were  vast  funeral  pyres 
of  the  dead  and  wounded.  The  stern  determina- 
tion of  Grant  to  keep  hammering  at  Lee,  to  fight, 
and  fight  continually,  until  liis  foe  was  "  worn  out 
by  attrition,"  required  reinforcements  by  tens  of 
thousands  to  take  the  place  of  his  wounded  and 
dead.  Without  time  for  completion  of  a  regimental 
organization,  seven  companies  of  the  184th,  number- 
ing 500  officers  and  men,  were  hurried  to  the  front 
and  marched  at  a  quickstep  into  battle,  in  the 
swamps  of  the  Tolopotomy,  on  the  29th  day  of 
May.  All  of  the  officers  and  many  of  the  men  were 
veteran  soldiers;  but  tliere  were  many  young 
men  in  the  ranks,  who  then  for  the  first  time 
faced  the  foe,  experienced  the  suffocating  smell 
of  burning  woods  and  sulphurous  powder-smoke, 
and  saw  the  ground  strewn  with  dead.  Yet  as 
to  how  bravely  they  fought  and  how  nobly  they 
fell,  no  higher  praise  can  be  given  than  that  re- 
corded by  Bates,  the  historian  of  the  Pennsylvania 
troops : 

"Out  of  500  men  who  stood  upon  the  banks 
of  the  Tolopotomy  on  the  29th  day  of  May,  350, 
including  twelve  officers,  had  been  either  killed, 
wounded  or  taken  prisoners  in  a  period  of  twenty- 
five  days.     A  loss  impreoedented. " 

The  historian  should  also  have  added  to  their 
honor  "and  the  division  to  which  they  were 
attached,  during  that  twenty-five  days,  never 
retreated  from  a  battle  nor  yielded  back  a  foot 
of  ground  they  had  won  from  the  enemy." 

A   MOTHER'S  APPEAX,  TO   LINCOIiN. 

On  the  14th  day  of  May  the  great  audience 
chamber  of  the  White  House  was  filled  with  men 
and  women,  seeking  interviews  with  President 
Lincoln.  As  Mi-.  Lincoln  passed  down  the  line, 
speaking  in  low  tones  to  each  in  turn,  he  came 
to  a  tall  and  stately  woman  dressed  in  the  black 
garb  of  mourning,  and  asked  her  in  his  kind  and 


TEUE    STOEIES    OF    THE    WAE    FOR    THE    U^ION. 


*enfler  way,  "  Mother,  what  can  I  do  for  you  ? " 

"Mr.  Lincoln,  I  am  Mrs.  Keys,  of  Milesburg, 
Pennsylvania.  1  have  two  sons,  twin  brothers, 
only  nineteen  years  old,  and  botli  liave  run  awaj 
tind  joined  the  army.  I  beg  you  to  send  tlieni 
iiome  to  me." 

'■  Mrs.  Kej's,  I  am  sorry  your  boys  have  en- 
iisted  witliout  your  consent.  Still,  you  should 
le  proud  of  them.  Such  patriotic  young  men 
arc  now  the  hope  of  tlie  country.  Look  about 
you  in  this  room.  Most  here  are  mothers  appeal- 
ing to  me  to  give  back  tlieir  sons.  Day  after 
day.  othei-8  have  been  here  on  the  same  mission 
-until  it  seems  to  me  they  make  a  multitude  almost 
-as  large  as  our  army.  The  generals  insist  that 
to  save  the  Union  I  must  deny  their  appeals. 
Eef using  their  petitions,  how  can  1  grant  yours?"' 

"  Oh !  Mr.  Lincoln,  I  am  a  feeble  old  widow. 
These  boys  are  all  1  liave  to  comfort  me  the  rest 
of  my  days.  If  they  should  be  killed  I  will  be 
left  alone  in  the  world." 

The  President  stood  a  little  while  in  silence. 
He  then  wrote  a  few  lines  upon  a  small  strip  of 
paper  and  told  Mrs.  Keys  to  take  it  to  Mr.  Stanton. 
Looking  up  to  his  face  through  a  mist  of  tears,  she 
clasped  his  hand,  said  "God  blesa.you,"  and  then 
hurried,  with  a  smiling,  happy  face,  to  the  War 
Department,  and  gave  the  paper  to  the  Secretary 
of  War.  Mr.  Stanton,  upon  reading  it,  asked 
the  name  of  her  son. 

"Why,  JVIi-.  Stanton,  it  is  not  one— I  have  two 
boys  I  want  back  again." 

Ml-.  Stanton  asked  her  to  state  the  conversation 
8he  had  with  the  President.  He  then  kindly  told 
her  that  Mr.  Lincoln  had  meant  to  give  her  a 
choice;  that  he  had  denied  the  appeals  of  thou- 
sands of  mothers  lor  their  sons,  and  in  giving  her 
one  of  her  boys  he  had  made  a  great  exception 
m  her  favor,_as  probalily  over  100,000  soldiers  in 
the  army  were  under  twenty-one  years  of  age ;  that 
this  was  all^  as  a  good  and  loyal  woman,  she 
should  expect,  ana  slie  must  make  a  choice  Be- 
tween her  sons. 

Wliat  a  heart-agonizing  trial  it  was  to  that 
mother's  love!  After  a  bitter  struggle,  she  chose 
the  one  named  Eobert.  as  he  was  not  so  strong 
and  able  to  bear  hardships  and  exposure  as  Irvin. 

The  Secretary  of  War  promised  that  the  order 
for  hie  discharge  should  be  sent  to  the  army 
without  delay,  and  advised  her  to  go  home  and 
-expect  to  see  her  boy  in  a  few  da.vs. 

OH,    THE    HORRQR    Of   IT  I 

By  daybreak  on  the  3d  of  June  the  Army  of 
the  Potomac  had  completed  the  formation  of  the 
battle-line  at  Cold  Harbor.  As  the  sun  rose  and 
for  a  brief  space  of  time  sparkled  on  the  bayonets 
of  that  long,  sinuous  line  of  dark  blue,  with  bright 
flags  waving  in  the  morning  breeze,  it  made  a 
beautiful  picture.  But  it  was  only  for  a  moment. 
The  cannon  thundered  from  every  hilltop,  and 
shrieking,  hissing  shot  and  shell  came  hurtling 
through  the  air. 

The  long  Line  moved  forward  with  a  measured 
tread,  then  faster  and  faster,  with  cheers  which 
swelled  in  volume  as  the  voice  of  a  deep  and 
mighty  storm-lashed  sea  beating  upon  a  rock- 
bound     coast.     Onward     it     charged— over    hiils, 


through  patches  of  woodland  and  swampy  places, 
gathering  in  cannon  which  had  hurled  grape  and 
canister,  and  stiU  onward  and  upward  upon  a 
hill  where  the  foemen  were  making  a  stand  be- 
hind stromg  entrenchments.  Then  there  came  a 
deafening  crash  of  musketry,  which  made  the 
ground  tremble  and  swallowed  up  the  thunder 
of  cannon  and  the  cheering  of  the  armies.  Then 
all  was  still;  and  when  the  breeze  blew  away 
the  thick  curtain  of  powder  smoke  it  showed 
10,000  men  stretched  upon  the  field  writhing, 
dyijig  and  dead. 

The  184th  Pennsylvania  were  the  charging  front 
of  the  Second  Brigade,  Second  Division,  Second 
(Hancock's)  Corps.  Out  of  440  of  the 
officers  and  men  who  stood  in  line 
on  the  banks  of  the  Tolopotomv  only  three 
days  before,  180  were  a  part  of  the  10,000  men 
stretched  upon  that  battlefield.  As  the  smoke 
cleared  away,  and  the  contending  armies  were 
l)reathing  and  crouching  like  savage  tigers,  pre- 
paratory to  another  mighty  death  struggle,  a 
trooper  rode  swiftly  across  the  hUl,  checked 
his  foaming  horse  at  the  line  of  the  Second  Brigade 
and  handed  the  Adjutant  of  the  184th  a  folded 
paper,  which  read  as  follows : 

War  Department, 
Adjutant-General's  Office, 
Sperlal  Orders,  Washington.     May     14,     1864. 

No.  177.  (Extract.) 

.  .  ,  •  » 

53.  By  direction  of  the  Presldpnt,  Private  Robert 
L.  Kevs.  a  recruit  for  the  184th  Pennsylvania  Volun- 
teers, 'now  with  that  regiment,  ^vill  be  discharged  the 
service  of  the  Tnited  Stntes  upon  producing  satis- 
factory evidence  to  the  commanding  officer  of  tae  de- 
Txirtment  In  which  he  mny  be  serving  of  his  having 
rpfunded  all  Txiunties  (Ignited  States,  States  and  local) 
which  he  may  have  received,  and  expenses  incurred  m 
his  enlistment. 

...  .  •  f 

By  order  of  the  Secretary  of  War, 

E.   D.  TOWNSEND, 
Assistant  Adjutanl^General. 

(Offloial.) 
E.    T>.  Towusend, 

Assistant  Adintant-General, 
Army  of  the  Potomac. 

That  handsome  boy,  a  mother's  choice,  lay  first 
in  the  foremost  line— dead.  The  twin  brother 
was  carried  back  with  an  arm  shattered  and 
mangled  t)y  a  shell.  It  was  a  hard,  and  melancholy 
task  to  vrrite  to  that  waiting  mother,  who  no 
doubt  heard  the  roar  of  the  train  speeding  up 
througli  the  valley,  and  stood  upon  the  thresh- 
old of  his  childhood's  home  to  embrace  and  wel- 
come her  boy— and  who,  instead  of  receiving  him, 
received  the  message  of  death,  and  the  poor, 
maimed  and  slighted  son  who  died  in  her  arms 
a  few  months  later  from  his  wounds. 

REVENGE. 

With  courage  unabated  by  the  bloody  check 
they  had  received,  the  Federal  troops  threw  up 
breastworks  to  hold  the  ground  they  had  wrested 
from  the  Confederates;  and  the  narrow  strip  of 
land  in  front  of  the  Second  Brigade,  Second  Divi- 
sion, Second  Corps,  only  forty-three  yards  wide  be- 
tween the  opposing  armies,  for  eight  days  and 
nights  kept  the  forces  on  both  sides  constantly  on 
the  alert.  By  day  the  rifles  of  the  sharpshooters 
kept  up  a  nervous  and  spiteful  fire,  and  by  night 
the  earth  and  sky  we*e  lit  up  by  the  flash  of 
cannon,  howitzers  and  mortars. 

On  the  4th,  at  midnight,  the  debatable  ground 


80 


LIBEAEY    OF    lEIBL-^E    EXTEAS. 


■was  filled  with  Federal  soldiers  silently  satherinrj; 
the  wounded,  'who  had  lain  so  many  hours  without 
food  or  water  l^eneath  a  burning  sun.  Sud- 
denly tlie  soldiers  leaped  within  the  lines,  and  fol- 
lowing after  tbem  came  charnin,"-  columns  of  the 
Confederates.  Then  a  fire  rolled  out  at  them  as 
if  the  very  heavens  were  ablaze,  and  the  crash  of 
muslictry  along  the  front  of  the  Second  Corps 
aroused  from  sleep  the  long  line  to  the  right  and 
the  faraway  camps  of  the  reserves  and  army  trains. 
The  columns  in  gray  wei-e  hurled  back  to  their 
works.  The  niftht  winds  far  and  wide  bore  the  ex- 
ulting cheers  of  Hancock's  men,  who  rejoiced  to 
know  that  the  enemy  had  leceived  a  taste  of  the 
bitterness  they  had  eo  often  experienced  them- 
selves. Daylight  showed  the  narrow  strip  lietween 
the  lines  more  thickly  strewn  than  ever  witli 
soldiers,  but  this  time  they  were  in  gray. 

^VHAT      WAS      G-OD'S     PIjAN  ? 

Then  the  hearts  of  the  soldiers  seemed  to  grow 
more  hard,  obdurate  and  cruel,  and  for  days  the 
sharpshooting  was  prosecuted  murderously  at 
everything  which  moved  on  either  side— not  spar- 
ing even  the  wounded  between  the  lines.  Tliis 
made  more  places  vacant  in  households  both  North 
and  South,  deciding  nothing  for  the  right,  or  for 
liberty,  justice  and  true  religion.  It  proved,  how- 
ever, that  the  most  cruel  of  all  wars  is  the  one 
between  people  of  the  same  tongue  and  ancestry. 

Thus  for  eight  days  and  nights  the  opposing 
aimies  literally  besieged  each  other. 

At  last  an  officer  caine  down  the  line  bearing  a 
white  flag— a  truce  to  gather  in  the  wounded  and 
bury  the  dead.  Powder-begi'imed  but  tender- 
feeling  soldiers  bore  back  the  twin  brother— a 
mother's  choice— and  buried  him  beneath  the  shade 
of  a  spreadiiig  oak.  Beside  him  they  laid  sixtv- 
six  of  his  comrades  in  the  184th  Pennsylvania,  and 
carried  113  back  to  the  t5eld  hospitals.  In  tlies'^ 
hospitals  many  died,  while  others  were  able  to 
reach  home  and  friends,  where  loving  hands  soothed 
their  feverish  wounds,  and  where  at  last  tliey 
were  laid  to  slumber  beside  generations  of  their 
kindred. 

In  God's  great  plan  of  creation  the  sunshine 
warms  and  the  ram  waters  the  earth,  so  that  it 
may  bring  forth  flowers,  fruits  and  golden  grain. 
Could  it  be  but  a  part  of  that  plan  for  the  blood 
of  the  hundreds  ot  thousands  of  men  which  crim- 
soned the  soil  of  the' South  to  become  germs  of 
true  chivalry,  to  take  root  and  produce  a  liarvest 
of  patriotism,  loj-alty  and  honor  that  would  do 
all  things  and  endure  all  things  for  their  mother 
country,  and,  like  the  noble  youths  from  whom 
they  sprung,  if  needs  be,  die  for  her  ? 
THE    184TH    ANNIHILATED. 

General  Lee.  to  whom  history  must  accord 
greatness  as  a  leader  fighting  on  the  defensive, 
clung  closely  to  his  entrenchments,  gave  up  all 
hope  of  driving  the  Federals  back,  and  refused' 
to  come  out  and  fight  on  open  around.  Grant, 
after  nine  days  more  of  striving  to  find  a  weak 
place  in  the  enemy's  lines,  and  after  losing  thou- 
sands of  men  in  vain  assaults,  decided  to  move 
across  the  James  and  strilce  Eichmond  from  the 
south. 

In  the  series  of  hard-fought  battles  around  Pe- 
tersburg, from  the  12fla  to  the  2 2d  of  June,  the 
seven  companies  of  the  lS4th  Pennsylvania  par- 
ticipated, losing  one-fifth  of  their  number  in 
killed  and  wounded.  On  the  2 2d  of  June,  at  3 
a.  m.,  what  was  left  of  the  Second  Brigade,  in- 
cluding this  regiment,  was  ordered  forward  to 
take  an  advanced  position.  In  the  movement  a 
number  of  Confederates  were  captured  while 
asleep  in  the  rifle-pits.  The  enemy  began  a 
rapid  and  heavy  tire,  showing  superior  force,  and 


the  brigade,  I^ilting  in  the  edge  of  a  wood,  tore 
down  an  old  fence,  and  with  the  rails  and  earth, 
constructed  lialit  Ire'.i^t  works.  When  it 
V-ecame  light  enough  to  see  they  discovered  inu 
front  of  them  two  large  redoubts  armed  with 
heavy  siege  guns,  i\nd  connected  by  high  breast- 
works, with  blockhouses  on  the  right,  fitted  with 
noriholes  for  sliarpsliooters.  On  the  left  of  the 
Second  Brigade  thsre  were  no  troops  connecting 
with   them,   nor   works   to   priitect   tlieir   flank. 

•'Greeley's  History  of  the  Americoji  Con- 
flict'' speaks  of  Hill's  forces  "'striking  theni 
in  the  flank,  rolhng  them  up  and 
forcing  them  Viack  with  the  loss  of  four  guns  and 
many  prisoners.''  Tiiis  goes  hardly  far  enough 
to  be  fair,  because  the  Federal  brigade  repelled 
three  charges  of  the  enemy  during  the  day.  They 
sent  word  back  to  their  division  commander  re- 
peatedly of  their  perilous  position,  and  the  noise- 
of  the  cannon  and  muslcetrv  was  surely  addi- 
tional warning  that  the  little  brigade  was  being 
hard  pressed.  Had  their  old  leader,  Hancock, 
been  there  inst<'ad  of  being  disabled  by  wounds 
the  day  might  have  had  a  brighter  ending. 
An  hour  before  sunset,  while  resisting  and  re- 
pelling a  furious  charae  in  their  front,  their  flank 
was  gained  by  a  division  of  Hill's  corps,  which 
captured  four  guns  and  l,50n  men  of  the  Second 
Briaade.  Of  the  184th  Pennsylvania  fifty-two- 
were  killed  and  wounded  and  120  were  taken 
prisoners  out  of  212  officers  and  men  engaged. 
Ninety  out  of  the  120  died  from  starvation  and 
inhuman  treatment  in   Southern  prison  pens. 

A  few  minutes  after  the  destruction  of  the 
brigade  fhe  Second  Corps  charged  upon  the  enemy, 
driving  them  back  and  recoverin:^  thp  dead  and 
wounded  :   but  too  late  to  lescuo  the  prisoners. 

After  lying  all  night  upon  a  hill  back  of  Peters- 
burg, near  the  headquarters  of  General  Lee,  the 
prisoners  were  marclied  to  the  Appomattox,  where 
their  names,  etc.,  were  eiir oiled.  They  were  tlien 
'sent  to  Eichmond.  Aft^r  hours  of  standing  in 
the  hot  sun.  they  were  paraded  through  the 
principal  streets  of  the  city,  past  the  Capit-)]  and 
President's  mansion  to  revive  the  despaiuing 
spirits  of  thi^  citizens.  .V  Eichmond  pap^r  of  June 
24  contained  an  article  glorifying  the  victory  and 
replete  with  abuse  of  the  prisoners,  '' who,  \vith 
their  high  topboots,  cocked  hats,  flowinnr  sashes 
and  poodle  side-whiskers,  were  the  most  desperate 
cut-throat  lookins'  Yankees,  the  viles<-  lot  un- 
hunsr,  or  that  was  ever  brought  into  Eichmond, 
etc."  The  prisoners  probably  brought  this  criti- 
cism upoTi  themselves ;  because,  learning  that 
Winder  and  his  sta<T  intended  to  make  an  exhibi- 
tion of  them,  they  assumed  an  important  swag- 
ger to  suit  the  occasion. 

After  a  brief  imprisonment  at  Libby,  the  officers, 
128  in  number,  were  started  southward  for  the 
stockade  prison  in  old  Camp  Oglethorpe,  near 
Macon.  Georgia.  Because  of  the  destruction  of 
the  railroad,  they  were  taken  to  Lynchbure-  and 
thence  across  country  to  Danville.  Wliiie  they 
were  marching  through  Lynchburg  an  old  Con- 
federate mother,  dressed  in  black,  tall  and  stately 
like  Mrs.  Keys,  came  out  and  stood  upon  the  high 
porch  of  her  cottage,  above  the  prisoners,  Hvith 
hands  clenched  and  raised  to  heaven  as  if  pre- 
paring to  call  The  Aengeanee  of  fiod  upon  their 
heads.  Instead  of  scoffing  her  attitude,  to  the 
wonderment  of  the  Confederate  guards,  hats  were 
instantly  taken  oft'  by  the  prisoners  as  they 
marched  by  in  profound  silence.  To  those  who 
knew  of  the  t^tal  delay  of  Special  Orders  No.  177, 
tlie  sympathy  for  the  mourning  Confederate  mother 
Avas  as  deep  as  it  was  for  that  old  Union  mother 
who  had  made  a  choice  and  yet  had  to  sacrifice 
all  that  was  dear  to  her  in  the  cause  of  her 
country. 

Could  these  two  motiiers,  and  all  the  mothers. 
North  and  iSouth,  wlio  lost  sons  m  the  war,  have 
met  and  told  each  other  their  sorrows,  they  could 
have  buried  more  deeply  in  oblivion  all  sectional 
hate  and  made  more  perfect  harmony  anfl  more 
abiding  love  between  tlie  warring  States  than  all 
tlie  lawmakers  and  Avise  men  of  the  earth.— (Sid- 
ney T.  Muffly,   Adjutant    184th  Penn.   Inf. 


TRUE    STORIES    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    THE    UNION. 


81 


FIBST   DASH  AT  PETERSBURG. 


BUTLEirS  GUNBOATS  RUN  AGROUND. 


OILMOKE     ATTACKS     AND     KAUTZ    EXTEKS     THE 
CITY— A  LIVELY  BAY  FOR   THE   CITY. 

In  the  early  part  of  June,  1864,  General  Ben- 
jamin F.  Butler,  then  in  command  of  the  Arnjy  of 
the  Jamee,  with  headquarters  at  City  Point, 
conceived  the  idea  of  seizing-  the  City  of  Peters- 
burg and  destroying  the  railroad  bridge  span- 
ning the  Appomattox  Kiver  at  that  point,  there- 
by cutting  off  the  city's  communications  with 
Eichmond.  He  planned  to  take  his  gunboats 
up  the  river  and  attack  the  city  from  the  east, 
whUe  General  J.  Q.  A.  Gill  more,  with  4,000  men, 
was  to  invest  it  on  the  northern  side.  General 
Kautz.  with  his  division  of  cavalry,  was  to  as- 
sail fi'om  the  south. 

Since  coming  in  from  the  south-side  raid,  Kautz 
had  been  l.Ying  near  Point  of  Eocks,  just  above 
Bermuda  Hundred.  On  the  8th  of  the  month  he 
received  orders  to  move  on  the  coveted  city ;  and 
rations  of  hardtack,  coffee  and  sugar  were  at 
once  issued  to  his  men.  About  one  o'clock  on 
Thurstlay  morning,  the  9th,  the  division  quietly 
vaulted  into  the  saddle,  and,  riding  down  the 
Appomattox,  safely  crossed  on  pontoens  about 
eight  miJes  below  the  city.  A  halt  was  then 
■made;.  Again  at,  early  daybreak',  withoM;t 
feeding  horses  or  making  cotTee,  the  division 
resumed  the  march,  the  11th  Pennsylvania  in  the 
advance.  In  due  season  the  Jerusalem  plank  road 
on  the  south  of  the  city  was  rea(;hed.  Taking  this 
road,  the  division  cautiously  began  to  advance 
toward   the   town. 

MeanwhUe  Butler,    with    his   gunboats,   moved 
tip  the  Appomattox  Eiver,   but  found   the  water 
very  low,   and  was  unable  to  get  within  range 
of  the  city.     Consequently  no  attaclc   was  made 
from  this  quarter. 

Gillmore,  however,  more  fortunate,  managed 
to  reach  the  northern  limit  of  the  city.  He 
'was  here  met  by  the  Confederates,  and  was  stub- 
bornly opposed  by  a  strong  force  of  the  enemy, 
whom,  he  at  once  engaged  warmly. 

KAUTZ   MAKES    A   PUSH. 

Kautz,  hearing  the  thunder  of  Gillmore's  guns, 
wliich  were  hammering  away  at  the  enemy  far  off 
toward  the  north,  pressed  promptly  forward,  ex- 
pecting to  take  the  city  by  surprise.  In  this  he 
was  doomed  to  disappointment,  because  our  ap- 
proach liad  been  accidentally  discovered.  Aa 
alarm  had  been  given  by  the  ringing  of  bells,  and 
a  force  of  200  armed  citizens,  old  men  and  youths, 
commanded  by  Major  F.  H.  Ai-cher  and  Captain 
William  H.  Jarvis,  had  hastened  out  and  taken 
position  in  tJieir  first  line  of  worlis,  situated  a 
mile   arid  a  half  outside  the  city  limits. 

The  11th  Pennsylvaria,  still  in  advance,  sud- 
denly came  upon  these  works  about  11a.  m.,  and 
were  promptly  fired  upon  by  two  of  the  enemy's 
pickets  posted  at  the  front.  Instantly  several 
cavalrymen  returned  their  fire,  and  the  two 
pickets  dropped   dead,  pierced  by  bullets.     Then 


a  heartrending  discovery  was  made.  One  of  the 
persons  shot  was  a  smooth-faced,  manly  lad.  not 
more  tlian  thirteen  years  of  atfo.  while  the  other 
was  a  man  at  least  sixty-five,  every  hair  of  whose 
head  was  as  white  a,s  snow.  It  was  a  most  pitiful 
sight  to  see  these  two,  one  of  whom  Was  far  too 
old  and  the  other  far  too  young  for  the  hard 
service  of  army  life,  thus  ruthlessly  laid  cold  ia 
death.  The  man  who  fired  upon  and  killed  tho 
hoy,  a  personal  friend  of  the  writer,  shed  tears 
freely  when  he  realized  the  youthful  age  of  the 
Confederate  picket. 

About  hall'  of  the  cavalry  had  now  been  dis- 
mounted and  formed  in  line  of  battle  in  front  of 
the  long  line  of  earthworks  occupied  by  the 
Confederates.  A  lively  but  brief  engagement  now 
took  place.  The  enemy,  with  one  piece  of  artillery 
and  musketry,  tJirew  quite  a  heavy  fire  upon  our 
advancing  line  of  blue,  and  this  proved  so  severe 
that  tho  advance  was   finally  cliecked. 

Morton's  section  of  artillery  was  now  ordered  into 
t)attea-y.  Taking  position  just  in  the  edge  of 
a  wood  the  section  at  once  opened  fire  upon  the 
foe.  They,  however,  withstood  this  nobly,  and 
with  their  artillery  spiritedly  answered  our  own, 
getting  OUT  range  at  once  jnost  admirably. 
Their  first  two  shots  struck  directly  in  front 
Of  our  second  piece,  throwing  gravel  all  oyer 
the  gunners,  while  the  third  passed  just  over- 
head, trimming  a  shower  of  branches  from  the 
trees. 

The    cavalry,    which    had    been    again    pushed 
forward,    soon    turned    the    enemy's    flank     and 
managed  to  get  inside  their  works.     Here  a  des- 
perate   and    almost    hand-to-hand    fight    of   short 
duration   took  place,    the   foe   in   the  end    being 
repulsed   and  put  to   flight,   leaving  nearly  half 
their   number  either   killed,   wounded     or   prison- 
ers in  our  hands.     Their  kiided,  eleven  in  number, 
all  citizens,  were  Henry  A.  Banks,  W.   C.  Banis- 
ter, J.   W.  Bellingham,  J.  Crowder,  William  Dan- 
iel, John  E.  Friend,  W.  H.  Hardee,  Wayles  Hurt, 
Guy  G.  Johnson,  George  B.  Jones  and  G.  Stauu- 
ley.     One  of  the  prisoners  captured  was  the  re- 
doubtable Anthony  M.   Keiley,   aftenwards  Mayor 
of    Richmond,    and    more    recent    of    minLsterial 
fame ;    the   same   person    appointed    by  President 
Cleveland  as  ambassador  to  two  different  foreign 
countries,  both   of  which  refused  to  accept  him. 
The  exact  Union  loss  in  this  engagement  I  do  not 
remember,   but  it  was  not  heavy.     Of  the   11th 
Pennsylvania,  however,  four  men  were  killed,  one 
of  whom  was  1st  Sergeant  Lamb,  of  Company  F. 
a  most  noble  young  feUow.     We  also  captured  the 
enemy's   piece   of    artillery,    which    some    of    the 
men   immediately  seized     and     turned     upon     its 
former   possessors.     Strange   to    say,   before  th<?y 
got  it  to  working  a  shell  tired  at  us  from  a  bat- 
tery posted  in  the  city  struck  and  rendered  the 
gun   useless. 

The  delay  cau.sed  by  this  fight  enabled  Bear- 
ing's cavalry  and  Sturdivant's  and  Graham's  bat- 
teries to  be  brought  up  and  placed  in  position 
in  our  front,  just  within  the  city  limits. 

PREP.\R\TIOXS    TO    STORM. 

As  soon  as  the  fight  was  over  the  dismounted 


82 


LIBRAEY    OF    TEIBUXE    EXTEAS. 


men  vaulted  into  the  saddle,  and  again  the  divi- 
sion pressed  on  toward  the  city  in  pursuit  of  the  foe. 
Wlien  the  artUlery  came  to  limber  up  it  was 
found  that  the  recoil  of  the  second  ^un  while 
firing  had  broken  its  a\le;  confiequently  one  of 
the  wheels  had  to  be  locked  to  keep  it  in  place, 
and  in  this  disabled  condition  the  section  started 
on,  bringing  up  the  rear  of  the  di\-ision.  Near 
where  the  engagement  took  place  resided  tlie 
Hon.  Timothy  Eivee,  an  ex-member  of  Congress, 
who,  it  was  claimed  by  some,  was  a  stanch 
Union  man.  He  was  captured  hy  our  men  and 
taken  along  in  order  to  guide  us  by  the  shortest 
route  through  the  .town  to  the  Appomat)tox 
Bridge,  which  we  were  most  anxious  to  destroy. 
A  ride  of  a  mile  and  a  half  brought  the  division 
to  the  city  limits.  Filing  over  a  bridge  wluch 
here  SDauned  a  small  creek,  we  entered  one  of 
tlie  streets  of  Petersburg,  the  head  of  the  column 
reaching  to  the  foot  of  a  liill,  on  which  the  reser- 
voir was  situated.  It  was  on  tliis  hill  that  the 
reserve  Confederate  force  had  taken  position ;  and 
here,  joined  by  those  wlio  had  been  driven  in, 
they  now  opened  a  light  lire  upon  us  bluecoats. 

Captain  Gerald  Eeynolds,  Company  M,  of  the 
11th  Pennsylvania,  at  once  called  for  a  score  of 
volunteers  to  lead  in  a  charge  about  to  be  made. 
These  were  quickly  secui-ed.  Among  the  brave 
men  who  responded  I  call  to  mind  1st  Sergeant 
Irvin  Bacon,  2d  Sergeant  N.  W.  Ward,  Sergeant 
D.  C.  Sheckler,  Corporal  John  Q.  Eathburn  and 
Private  John  M.  Taj'lor.  Formed  in  line  for  the 
charge,  the  11th  Pennsylvania  moved  promptly 
forward  up  the  hill,  the  a  0th  New- York  at  the 
same  time  advancing  on  the  left,  wliile  the  1st 
D.  C,  with  the  5th  Pennsylvania  and  artillery, 
were  held  in  reserve. 

Just  at  tills  juncture  one  of  the  enemy's  bat- 
teries, masked  in  a  grove  on  the  hill  to  our  right, 
suddenly  opened  with  a  most  terrific  fire  upon 
the  assauking  column.  On,  however,  pressed  the 
line  of  blue  undaunted,  the  storm  of  deadly 
missiles  flying  thickly  about  them  through  the 
air.  But  now  a  most  unexpected  incident  oc- 
curred. 

A    SURPRISE. 

General  Gillmore,  unfortunately  meeting  with 
considerable  resistance,  and  thinkiug  the  city  too 
strongly  fortified  to  be  captured,  had  abandoned 
the  enterprise  and  fallen  back.  Then  Breckin- 
ridge's infantr5',  wMoh  had  engaged  him  aU  the 
morning,  was  at  once  hurried  from  the  north  to 
the  south  of  the  city  to  confront  Kautz.  This 
force  most  unexpectedly  now  moved  down  upon 
our  assaulting  line,  pouring  upon  it  a  very  severe 
fire  of  musketry,  which,  with  that  of  the  artillery, 
completely   checked   our  advance. 

Colonel  Spear  at  once  realized  that  the  divl- 
«ion  was  greatly  outnumbered  and  held  at  cou- 
fiiderabte  disadvantage.  Therefore,  to  save  life,  he 
was  about  to  order  the  line  to  fall  back,  when 
the  same  word  was  received  from  General  Kautz, 
and,  of  course,  immediately  complied  with,  al- 
though all  were  most  unwilling  to  abandon  the 
enterprise.  No  sooner  had  the  advance  wheeled 
about,  in  order  to  retire,  than  tlie  foe  renewed 
their  energj'   and   redoubled  their   fire,  throwing 


the  line  into  confusion  and  driving  it  pell  mell 
down  the  road.  Colonel  Spear,  Captain  Eey- 
nolds and  sergeants  Ward  and  Eickards  were  the 
last  to  withdraw. 

THE  DEVIIi  TAKE  THE  HINDMOST. 

Once  the  advance  had  begun  to  fall  back,  the 
whole  division  took  to  its  heels,  and  at  a  break- 
neck pace  galloped  to  the  rear,  each  man  doing 
his  best  to  distance  all  others  in  the  wild  race. 
Morton's  section  of  artillery  was  the  last  to  enter 
the  gity,  and  as  it  filed  across  the  creek  obliqued 
to  the  left,  entering  a  deep  cut  by  the  roadside. 
The  ^'-avalry  in  its  wild  dash  to  the  rear  choked 
up  the  road  to  such  an  extent  that  the  artillery- 
men were  forced  to  remain  inactive  until  the 
road  was  cleared  before  moving.  This  accom- 
plislied,  however,  they  were  then  ordered  to  get 
back  the  best  way  they  could. 

Lament  Saunders,  the  driver  of  the  leading 
team  of  the  second  piece,  on  account  of  the  limited 
space  in  which  it  was  standing,  now  requested 
one  of  the  sergeants  to  unlock  the  locked  wheel. 
The  sergeant  demurred,  but  Saunders  insisted; 
consequently  Corporal  Thornton  complied  with 
the  request.  Then  wheeling  about  the  drivers, 
Saunders,  Tuttle,  Marten,  and  Smith,  lashed  their 
teams  into  a  wild  gallop  and  skipped  off  up  the 
hill  at  a  tremendous  pace.  Soon  off  went  both 
wheels  and  down  went  tlie  gun.  Notwithstanding 
^his,  on  dashed  the  reckless  drivers,  dragging  the 
powder  begrimed  nose  of  the  gun  in  the  sacred 
Confederate  dust. 

The  first  gun  squad,  which  in  the  advance  waa 
ahead,  now  wheeled  and  the  drivers,  McCaU,  Daily, 
Merehew  and  Grier,  too,  lashed  their  horses  into 
a  run  and  started  off  up  the  hill  in  hot  pursuit 
of  the  second  piece.  Shot,  shell,  grape  and  canister, 
were  flying  thickly  about,  and  before  they  had 
proceeded  far  a  charge  of  the  latter  was  hurled 
upon  them,  killing  and  disabling  seven  of  their 
eight  horses.  Some  of  the  animals  tu  their  fall 
tumbled  into  a  deep  ditch  by  the  roadside,  dis. 
mounting  the  men  most  unceremoniously.  For  a 
moment  considerable  confusion  prevailed  among 
the  gun  squad.  Then  Merehew,  whose  riding 
horse  was  unharmed,  went  to  work  cutting  it 
loose  in  order  to  continue  the  flight,  while  another 
dashing  fellow,  Corporal  Squti-e  Lee,  with  an  axe 
and  file,  deliberately  ispiked  the  gun,  which  could 
be  taken  no  further,  rendering  it  useless  for  the 
present  at  least. 

By  this  time  the  foe  was  in  hot  pursuit  and 
near  at  hand,  and  as  three  of  the  drivers  were 
dismounted  it  became  necessary,  in  order  to 
escape  capture,  that  they  should  double  up  with 
some  of  their  comrades,  or,  in  otlier  words,  two 
men  ride  one  horse.  Consequently  Merehew  took 
on  Daily,  Secord  a  gunner,  Grier,  while  Sergeant 
Andrew  Shafer  called  on  McCaTl  to  mount  on 
behind  3iim,  which  invitation  he,  of  course,  readily 
complied  with.  As  McCaU  vaulted  on  to  the 
horse  Shafer  partially  raised  himself  out  of  the 
saddle,  when  the  former  slipped  into  it,  crowd- 
ing the  sergeant  over  on  to  the  horse's  neck,  in 
which  condition  they  rode  for  about  a  mile  as 
fast  as  the  animal  could  carry  them.  McCall, 
seated  in  the  saddle,  rode  with  the  greatest  of  ease. 


TRUE    STOEIES    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    THE    UNION. 


83 


wMle  Shafer,  astride  the  horse's  neck,  was  forced 
to  hang  on  tenaciously  for  dear  life.  Although 
the  occafiion  was  uuite  a  serious  one,  yet  a  most 
hearty  laugh  did  their  comrades  have  at  the 
ridiculous  figure  which  they  cut. 

Once  out  of  range,  Saunders,  of  the  second 
piece,  reined  in  his  team,  causing  a  halt.  Then 
dismounting  and  calling  on  liis  fellow-drivers 
to  do  the  same,  he  set  determinedly  to  work  to 
sling  the  disabled  gun  under  the  limber.  The 
gunners  gave  their  assistance,  and  soon  this  was 
accomplished.  Then  remounting,  they  again  gal- 
loped on  after  the  flying  cavalry. 

KAUTZ    SHOWS    HIS    TEETH. 

A  mile  outside  of  the  city  limit  the  division,  in 
response  to  the  call  of  its  leaders,  came  to  a  halt 
and  formed  in  line  of  battle.  It  was  rather  ex- 
pected that  the  enemy  would  conttaue  to  pursue 
in  force,  and  Kautz  determined,  should  such  be  the 
case,  to  again  try  the  issue  with  them.  However, 
on  seeing  the  division  rallied  and  reformed,  the 
Confederates  halted  and  then  fell  back  to  the 
shelter  of  their  artillery,  posted  on  the  opposite 
hills  from  our  new  position.  That  left  us  with  no 
other  alternative  except  to  start  on  the  return  to 
Point  of  Rocks.  At  once  the  return  march  was 
begun,  and  after  a  long,  weary  ride  the  column 
reached  the  old  camp  about  2  o'clock  the  next 
morning,  the  10th,  having  been  almost  constantly 
in  the  saddle  and  in  line  of  battle  for  over  twenty- 
four  hours. 

Thus  failed  a  finely  conceived  plan  to  capture 
Petersburg.  Tlie  cause  of  the  failure  lay  princi- 
pally with  the  checking  of  the  advance  of  General 
Gillmore,  who,  many  think,  under  the  circum- 
stances, should  have  continued  the  fight  as  long  as 
it  was  possible,  or  until  he  was  satisfied  that 
Kautz  had  abandoned  the  undertaking.  However, 
Gillmore  was  a  good  commander,  and  that  he 
should  have  erred  at  times  was  only  human. 

That  very  night  several  thousand  Confederate 
troops  were  transferred  from  Richmond  to  Peters- 
burg, and  the  place  was  strongly  garrisoned.  Then 
for  ten  months  and  until  April,  186.5,  was  carried 
on  the  siege  of  that  city,  which  only  sujccumbed 
when  completely  reduced  by  the  very  hardest  of 
fighting,  as  thousands  of  old  veterams  can  attest 
to-day. 


JBIMY  BARRON'S  WHALE. 

Corry,  Penn.,  Oct.  24.— About  the  1st  of  Octo- 
ber, 1861,  the  United  Stales  ship  Valley  City,  on 
which  we  had  emlarked  some  time  previous,  left 
the  Navy  Yard  at  Brooklyn,  N.  Y.,  for  Chesapeake 
Bay,  where  it  remained  some  time,  much  longer 
than  we  in  our  eagerness  would  have  had  it.  We 
had  a  brisk  little  engagement  at  Aauia  Creek,  and 
came  away  with  pur  foremast  split  just  below  the 
cross-trees.  We  also  had  an  exchange  of  atten- 
tions with  an  old  side-wheel  passenger  steamer 
called  the  French  Lady,  which  came  down  the 
Eappahannock  from  Fredericksburg  with  200 
rebel  soldiers  on  board.  She  intended  to  board  us 
86  we  lay  at  anchor  blockading  the  mouth  of  the 
river.    But  her  captain  soon  concluded  that  dis- 


cretion was  the  better  part  of  valor,  and  she  was 
speedily  put  about.  We  followed  her  and  threw 
shell  after  shell  into  her  from  a  Dahlgren  gun  on 
our  bow.  Tlie  soldiers  on  board  of  her  soon  dis- 
covered the  bushes  which  lined  the  river  to  be  ex- 
ceedingly attractive,  and  most  of  them  jumped 
overboard  and  swam  ashore. 

Not  long  after  this  we  received  orders  to  go 
directly  to  Fort  Monroe,  and  there  we  lay,  not 
"under  the  guns  of  the  fort  on  the  hills,"  but 
under  the  guns  of  the  old  Union  stronghold.  It 
will  be  remembered  that  this  fort  was  never  in 
possession  of  the  rebels.  It  was  not  long  before 
orders  came  to  prepare  for  sea.  We  felt  highly 
elated  at  the  prospect  of  change  of  scene,  and  will- 
ing to  take  the  chances  of!  Cape  Hatteras,  even  ia 
our  old  flat-bottomed  scow.  It  was  now  under- 
stood that  ours  was  one  of  the  many  vessels  wMoh 
were  to  participate  in  the  Burnside  expedition  to 
capture  Roanoke  Islands  and  other  points. 

We  left  Fortress  Monroe  in  the  afternoon  and 
made  Cape  Henry  light  about  dark.  A  fresh 
breeze  was  blowing  from  the  southeast,  and  we 
promised  ourselves  a  lively  time  before  morning, 
which  promise  was  fully  verified.  Many  a  vessel 
of  tne  fleet  never  rounded  Cape  Hatteras  at  all, 
and  their  I  ones  still  line  the  coast  of  North  Caro- 
lina. 

At  the  end  of  the  fore-yardarm  of  our  vessel,  on 
the  starboard  si<^ie,  was  a  block  with  a  line  rove 
through  it,  used  to  lift  water  over  the  side  to 
wash  decks  yyith.  A  guard  knot  had  been  tied 
about  eight  feet  from  the  block  on  the  inside  to 
keep  it  from  unreeving,  the  weight  of  the  canvaa 
bucket  serving  the  same  purpose  on  the  other 
side.  This  will  be  readily  understood  by  any 
person  familiar  with  the  sea. 

An  Irislunan  named  James  Barron,  from  Law- 
rence, Mass.,  who  had  shipped  in  New-York  as  a 
landsman  for  three  years  or  the  war,  was  a  stout, 
burly  fellow,  a  weaver  by  trade,  and,  of  course, 
uninformed  about  the  sea.  Jimmy  Barron,  as 
he  was  faniiriarly  called,  was  never  (as  he  told 
the  captain)  higher  from  the  ground  than  a 
norse's  back,  and  the  idea  of  his  going  aloft  was 
out  of  the  question.  Accordingly,  he  was  ap- 
pointed mess  cook.  He  had  to  stand  watch,  how- 
ever. Eight  bells  brought  Jimmy  on  deck  this 
night  to  go  to  the  lookout  on  the  forecastle.  It 
was  cold,  but  he  was  prepared,  having  on  three 
pairs  of  trousers,  as  many  shirts,  and  what  was 
called  a  ''sliammy."  made  of  a  Government  blanket 
doubled  and  quilted,  with  a  hole  left  for  the  head, 
and  a  skullcap  with  a  cape,  used  mostly  by 
whalers  in  the  Arctic  seas.  When  Jimmy  went  to 
the  forecastle  the  vessel  was  dancing  a  lively 
jig  indeed  tc  the  music  of  the  waves.  The 
watch  on  deck  heard  him  say,  "The  divil  a  bit 
will  Oi  sthand  here  with  the  wind  a  blowin'  or 
me  into  the  say ;  Oi'll  be  afther  a  tyin'  ov  the  rope 
aboot  meself,  sure."  He  accordingly  untied  the 
rope  before  mentioned  from  the  bucket  and  made 
it  fast  about  himself.  He  must  have  done  tlds 
from  fear  of  his  own  safety  or  else  his  guardian 
angel  prompted  him,  for  it  was  the  means  of 
saving  his  Ufe. 

While  there  was  a  strong  breeze  blowing,   it 


84 


LIBRAEY  OF  TEIBUNE  EXTRAS. 


was   bright  starlight,   so   that  everything  which 
occurred  was  easily  discernible.     Every  now  and 
then  the  spray  was  dashed  over  the  bow  and  the 
decks  were  soon  extremely  slippery.     What  was 
worse,  the  round  shot  had  left  the  racks  by  the 
guns   and   were   rolhng   fore   and   aft.     For   their 
own  safety,  the  watch  on  deck  strove  to  secure 
them.     Just  at  this  crisis  the  rope  which  Jjjnmy 
liad  secured  about  his  waist  was  seen  to  unreeve 
through  the  block  on  the  yardarm  as  far  ae  the 
knot.     A   splash   was   heard,   and   the   cry   "Man 
overboard!"   rang  fore   and   aft.       The  cry  was 
heard  even  by  some  of  the  men  below  and  they 
came    tumbling    up    the    companion-way.     In    an 
instant  the  rope  was  manned   by   twenty  strong 
men,  and  what  was  their  horror  and  astonishment 
to  see  hanging  to  the  line  and  flapping  about  an 
enormous   fish,   about   seven   feet  in   length.     To 
man  the  brace  and  haul  the  yard  i;iboard  was  the 
work   of  a  second.     It  was  done  none  too  soon. 
The  shark,  as  it  proved  to  be,  broke  loose  and 
feU  with  a  hea^T  thud  upon  the  deck.     Tlie  crew 
stood  as  if  dazed,  gaaing  up  at  Jimmy  hanging  just 
below  the  block,  when  they  were  startled  by  the 
exclamation : 

"Where  am  Oi  now?  Sure,  an'  is  it  in  pur- 
gatory Oi  am?"  ^ 

This  brought  the  men  to  theij  senses;  ana  tlic 
boatswain's  mate  took  hold  of  the  rope  to  lower 
Jimmy  to  the  deck;  but  seeing  him  all  right, 
he    thought    he   would    have    a    little    fun    with 

him. 

"Who  are  you?"  said  the  mate. 

"  I'm  Jimmy  Barron,  yer  honor. " 

"  Where  are  you  from  ?" 

"  From  Lawrence,  Mass.,  but  Oi  was  lost  at  say 
an'    swallid   by    a  whale    an   thin    dhround,    yer 

honor." 

"  How  came  you  to  be  hung  ?" 

"  Holy  Mether  of  Mosis !     Is  it  hung  Oi  was  as 

well    as    being    dhround    an    made    bait    ov    fer 

whales,  an'  all  fer  the  wan  little  ofTince  ov  kickin' 

the  head  off  ov  Pat  Maloney  at  McGinniss's  raffle  ? 

Forgive  me  sins,  O " 

The  crew  could  stand  it  (no  longer,  and  with 
one  accord  they  shouted,  cheered  and  roared  wi.th 
laughter.  Jimmy  was  safely  lowered  and  his 
"shammy"  pulled  away  from  his  eyes.  As  a 
light  was  held  up.  he  gazed  about  ia  wonder  for 
a  moment,  then  it  seemed  to  dawn  on  his  mind 
that  he  was  still  in  this  world.  The  expression 
of  wonder  and  bewilderment  which  flitted  across 
his  face  was  comical  in  the  extreme.  When  he 
was  shown  the  whale  that  had  tried  to  swaUow 
him  he  turned  deathly  pale,  but  soon  recovered, 
with  the  remark:  "Begorra,,  Oi  have  wan  satis- 
faction annsrway ;  Oi'm  as  big  amon  now  as  Jonah, 
am'  me  name,  loike  his,  will  be  handed  down  in 
hi,shtory,  sure."  Jimmy  was  good-natured,  as  his 
people  usually  are,  and  soon  entered  into  the  fun 
ae  heartily  as  any  of  us. 

The  shark's  teeth,  three  of  which  are  still  in 
my  possession,  were  caught  in  the  "  shammy" 
which  Jimmy  had  luckily  thrown  about  him  and 
which  saved  him  from  being  injured  by  the  shark. 
If  any  one  wanted  to  get  up  a  fight  on  short  no- 
tice after  that,  he  had  only  to  mention  "Mc- 
Ginniss's raffle."— (John  Gary. 


"  BED    STRINGS  "  OF  CAROLINA. 


"  THE  HEEOES  OF  AMERICA. " 


AX     EXPERIENCE     WHICH    A    BAND    OF    UNION 
OFFICERS  WILL   NEVER  FORGET. 
Thomasville,  N.   C,  INIarch  4.— A  long  stretch  of 
mountainous    country   through    the   western    part 
of  North  Carolina  known  as  the  Piedmont  Regiom 
was  settled  in  early  colony  times  by  Palatines,  or 
Germans,  who  fled  from  the  civU  wars,  religious 
persecutions  and  jwlitical  oppression  in  the  "Vat- 
erland."        These  plain,   unpretentious   people   in- 
corporated many  thing's  into  their  religious  creed. 
Their   social  intercourse,   their   business  dealings, 
man  with  man,  and  even  their  voice  and  vote  in 
politics  were  of  as  great  importance  to  redemp- 
tion as  were  their  prayers.     These   pioneers  left 
as  a  heritage  to   then-  offspring  an  antipathy  to 
slavery  and  aU  tyranny,  and  a  strong  love  for  the 
Republic  for  which  their  forefathers  endured   so 
much  and  fought  so  heroically  to  establish.     The 
j'ear   1861    found  their  descendants  as  primitive 
in   manner  and  dress  as  when   the  forests  were 
being  heaved  away  and  the  log  cabins  erected. 

When  the  crisis  came,  although  a  majority  of 
the  people  declared  at  the  polls  against  the  ordi- 
nances of  secession,  their  votes  were  sup])ressed 
and  a  reign  of  violence,  oppression  and  terror  was 
begun  of  which  the  hundredth  part  will  ue\-er  be 
told.  Andrew  Johnson's  amnesty  proclamation 
saved  from  trial  and  just  punishment  many  ot 
the  ^'ilest  murderers  who  ever  encumbered  the 
earth,  and  many  inhuman  tyrants,  to-day  stand- 
ing liigh  in  social  and  political  life,  who  bar- 
barously hangied  old  gray-haired  mothers  by  the 
thumbs  to  force  tlieui  to  reveal  the  Mding-places 
of  their  sons  and  husbands. 

For  mutual  protection  and  support  the  Union- 
ists organised  a  secret  order  first  known  as  "  Tho 
Heroes    of   America,"    afterward    more    popularly 
called  the  "  Red  Strings,"  on  account  of  the  insignia 
of  the  oi-der— a  red,  white  and  blue  cord,  but  moro 
commonly    a   red    string,    worn    around    the   hat, 
wrist,    ankle   or    somewhere   about    the    clothing. 
From  North   Carolina  the  Red    Strings   increased 
to     a    mighty     host,     spreading    from     State  to 
State,  and  pervading  nov  only  the  secret  councils 
of    the    Confederate    Government,    but    the    very 
rank  and   file   of  the  armies    striving  to   destroy 
the  Republic.      Many   ordera   for  the  arrest   and! 
murder    of    Unionists    were  frustrated  by  timely 
warning  from  a  "Red  String.'"     Many  old  men 
and  young  boy  conscripts,  dressed  in  brown  and 
gray,  were  found  among  the  heaps  of  the  slain  on 
battlefields  wearing  the  red  string  badge  of  the 
"  Heroes."     It  would  reiiuire  volumes  to  explain 
how  many  of  them  aimed  their  muskets  too  lugh 
or  too  low,  in  order  that  they  might  not  hit  the 
dear    old    flag    or    the    blue-uniformed    soldiers 
who    bore  it;    the   many   bloody    tragedies,    and 
the  "Red  Strings"  who  became  martyrs  for  their 
country. 

A   STAMPEDE   FOR   LIBERTY. 

In  February,  1865,  Sherman's  victorious  march, 
from  Atlanta  to  the  sea  forced  the  Confederates- 


TEUE    STOEIES    OF    THE    WAE    TDK    THE    UNION. 


85 


to  remove  from  a  stockade  prison  at  Columbia, 
S.  C,  1,600  Federal  officers,  captured  probably 
in  over  a  hundred  bottles,  many  of  them  held 
since  the  closiing  campaign  of  1863.  Wliile  Sher- 
man's guns  were  giving  out  a  continuous  roar 
which  echoed  over  the  country  to  the  doomed  city, 
the  long  line  of  Federal  prisoners  were  marched 
out  of  the  stockade  between  strong  lines  of 
guards,  and  placed  in  a  train  of  fifteen  cars  to 
lie  taken  to  the  stockade  prison  at  Salisbury. 
To  memory's  eye,  after  even  the  lapse  of  twenty- 
five  years,  what  a  weijd  and  fearful  picture  they 
made,  gaunt,  cadaverous  and  hollow-eyed,  their 
faces  fierce  with  the  glare  of  hungry  ravages ;  and 
their  long-worn  uniforms  rent  and  hanging  in 
rags.  Tlie  sullen  echoes  of  those  cannons  thrilled 
them  with  a  wild  and  eager  desire  to  be  over 
there  with  Sherman,  and  a  passionate  wish  to 
fight  out  the  pent-up  anger  engendered  by  long 
weary  months  and  years  of  brutal  treatment,  and 
etrijie  one  more  blow  for  their  country  and  a 
thousand  for  tlieir  fellow-soldiers  who  had  starved 
to  death  in  prison. 

After  a  run  of  about  100  mUes,  over  worn  out 
rails,  the  old  rickety  engine  broke  down,  and 
the  prisoners  were  marched  to  an  old  field,  or 
pine  barren,  and  camped  without  shelter  in  the 
midst  of  the  storm  of  rain  and  sleet.  Notwith- 
standing that  they  were  clothed  in  rags,  their 
shoes  worn  out,  almost  without  blankets,  and  all 
of  them  hungry,  wet  and  coM,  yet  they  slept  and 
dreamed  all  night  long  that  they  heard  the  thunder 
of  Sherman's  artillery.  Wlien  daylight  came, 
hundreds  gathered  in  eager  haste  on  the  brow 
of  the  hill  facing  toward  the  north  and  home. 
Glancing  at  the  line  of  Confederate  guards,  whose 
fixed  bayonets  and  loaded  muskets  glittered  in 
the  rising  sunlight,  they  gave  one  wild  cheer, 
charged  across  the  dead-line  and  dashed  the  guards 
to  earth  as  if  they  were  decayed  and  brittle  corn- 
stalks left  standing  from  last  year's  harvest.  What 
cared  they  for  whizzing  bullets  and  the  shouts 
and  hurried  tramping  of  tJie  guards  ?  Eelund 
them  stood  the  terrible  Salisbury  prison. 
Before  them  lay  "  God's  Country, "  wliere 
loving  friends  waited  for  them — and  which 
after  tlieir  long  agony  seemed  as  Canaan  did  to 
the  Jews,  veritably  a  land  flowing  with  milk  and 
haney.  It  is  not  the  purpose  of  this  sketch  to 
relate  the  history  of  these  escaped  prisoners,  but 
only  to  follow  the  fortunes  of  one  of  them,  who 
met  the  "Eed  Strings"  and  found  them  brothers. 

M  the  mad  charge  for  freedom  (the  Southern 
paipers  said )  "  one  of  thei  prisoners  was  killed 
and  seven  were  wounded."  The  others  broke 
into  small  bands,  thd  better  to  find  subsistence 
and  concealment.  Four  of  them,  who  came  from 
the  same  valley  home  in  the  North,  had  been 
among  the  first  to  (make  up  the  great  army  and 
had  risen  from  the  ranks,  and  they  now  decided 
to  cling  together  in  adversity.  Traversing  a  nar- 
row strip  of  woodland,  they  came  to  a  little  brook 
flowing  through  a  meadow.  Lying  prostrate  in 
its  chilling  waters,  with  their  faces  hidden  by  the 
banks,  they  remained  concealed  until  nightfall 
and  heard  the  tramp  and  shots  of  the  Confederatcj 
ekirmish  line  in  the  woods  beyond.     During  the 


night  they  travelled  long  and  hard  through 
swamps,  brambles  and  creeping  vines  to  reach  a 
bridge  spanning  a  wide,  deep  river,  before  the 
enemy  might  think  to  guard  it.  With  shoes  in 
hand  and  stealthy  tread  they  crossed  tlie  bridge. 
At  the  further  end  they  passed  a  guard,  sitting 
there,  his  gun  between  his  knees  and  his  face 
resting  in  his  hands,  apparently  sleeping.  This 
danger  passed,  the  little  unarmed  band  followed 
the  curving  road  around  the  base  of  a  high  hill 
and  suddenly  came  within  sight  of  the  bright  light 
of  a  campflre.  Like  silent,  ghostly  shadows 
they  disappeared  among  the  trees.  A  hurried, 
toilsome  climbing  of  the  high  hill  to  avoid  this 
new  danger  so  exhausted  one  of  them  that  he 
fell  to  the  ground  unable  to  go  further.  After 
much  urging,  his  companions  shook  his  hands- 
in  farewell  and  left  him,  an^  wliile  crossing  an- 
other river  in  a  canoe  were  recaptured  by  the 
enemy's  cavalry.  These  men  were  Captain  E. 
C.  Eichards,  45th  Pennsylvania,  Ontario,  N.  Y. ; 
Captain  Waldo  C.  Van  Valen,  45th  Pennsylvania, 
Fleming,  Penn.,  and  Lieutenant  J.  L.  Hastings, 
7th  Pennsylvania,  R.  V.  C,  Salona,  Penn.  They 
were  shortly  afterward  exchanged,  and  going 
home  told  an  old  mother  in  the  far  North  how 
they  were  forced  to  leave  her  boy  dying  in  the 
wilderness. 

AT    THE    HOUSE    OP    A    "KED    ST1UNG.=  ' 

The  one  who  had  been  left  behind,  myself,  lay 
he  knew  not  how  long,  but  when  he  awoke  from 
sleep,  or  unconsciousness,  the  setting  sun  of  an- 
other day  was  shining  in  his  face.  As  the  dark- 
ness came  on  again,  hunger,  loneliness  and  anxiety 
spurred  liim  to  move  onward.  He  travelled  with 
painful  effort  about  a  mile,  which  to  him  seemed 
twenty,  and  by  then  had  the  good  fortune  to 
reach  the  log  cabin  of  a  slave,  one  of  the  lowly 
race  for  whose  possession  the  South  had  plunged 
a  Nation  into  a  stupendous  war. 

For  days  the  prisoner  lay  concealed  among  the 
corn-shucks  in  a  barn  loft  and  was  tenderly 
watched  over  by  the  slave.  With  returning 
strength,  the  soldier's  impatience  to  move  on,  even 
if  it  were  only  a  fe\^  miles  nearer  home,  Ijecame 
almost  unbearable.  '  When  the  black  man  found 
he  could  no  longer  persuade  him  to  wait,  he 
brought  an  invitation  from  a  neighboring  planter 
for  the  prisoner  to  come  and  stay  with  liim.  When 
night  was  far  advanced,  the  slave  and  liis  brother, 
armed  with  heavy  cluljs,  guided  the  prisoner 
along  winding  paths  and  through  deep  thickets, 
over  the  high  hill  where  he  had  fallen  exhausted, 
down  past  the  long  bridge  and  by  the  river  bank  to 
a  quaint  old  house,  where  he  v?as  met  by  a  white- 
haired  gentleman  and  cordially  welcomed.  Here 
he  was  made  better  acquaTnted  with  the  secret  or- 
der of  the  "  Eed  Strings, "  and  the  fact  that  this  old 
gentleman  was  a  chief  of  the  clan.  On  that  first 
night  he  was  the  guard  at  the  bridge  and  had  or- 
ders to  turn  baok  or  kill  any  prisoner  who  at- 
tempted to  cross.  That  night,  and  maai;^'  nights 
when  he  had  been  stationed  there,  he  had  feigned 
sTeep  in  order  that  Union  refugees  might  take 
heart  and  push  on. 

In  his  hospitable  house  there  were  five  fellow- 


86 


LIBEAEY    OF    lEIEUNE    EXTIiAS. 


prisoners  who  had  taken  part  in  the  desperate 
charge  at  the  old  field  camp.  To  welcome  them 
and  supply  them  with  food  and  clothing  came  many 
"Eed  Strings"  with  their  iwives  and  daughters, 
who  kept  well  the  secret  of  their  hiding-place. 
The  party  of  six,  thus  constituted,  were  Adjutant 
Greorgo  O.  Wilder,  15th  Massachusetts,  Holliston, 
Mass. ;  Lieutenant  Joseph  Euff,  67th  Pennsyl- 
vania, Philadelphia;  Captain  Lyman  T.  Borchers, 
67th  Pennsylvania,  Dyberry,  Penn. ;  Captain  James 
T,  Chalfont,  11th  Pennsylvania  Eeserves,  Pitts- 
burg; Lieutenant  Cyrus  P.  Heffley,  142d  Pennsyl- 
vania, Berlin,  Penn.,  and  Adjutant  Sidney  T. 
Muffly,    184th  Pennsylvania,   Belief onte. 

Between  them  and  the  hosts  of  Sherman 
stretched  100  miles  of  unknown  country,  broken 
by  mountainous  and  swamp  land  and  cro5^.sed  by 
broad  rivers  and,  too,  there  marched  the  sullen 
and  defeated  army  of  the  Confederates,  wliile 
nearer  prowled  mounted  bands  of  "  Wheeler  out- 
laws,"  over  whom  tlieir  officers  had  lost  control, 
and  who  ravaged  the  countiy,  sparing  neither 
friend  nor  foe. 

A   MARCH   IN   THE  WII^DEKNESS. 

Impatient  to  be  gone,  the  six  prisoners,  supplied 
with  the  signs,  gi'ips  and  whispered  passwords  of 
the  "Eed  Strings"  and  a  bountiful  supply  of  food, 
turned  their  faces  westward  with  the  hope  that 
they  could  escape  into  Tennessee.  These  young 
men  did  not  hesitate  over  the  dangers  they  would 
encounter,  although  hundreds  of  miles  of  an 
enemy's  country  lay  before  them.  They  knew  that 
besides  the  risk  and  sulTering  of  the  journey  they 
would  at  last  have  to  climb  the  Great  Smoky 
Mountain  range  and  make  their  way  through 
the  lines  of  vigilant  and  hostile  Cherokee  Indians, 
who  were  paid  a  bounty  for  every  capture  they 
made,  and  perhaps  also  for  every  murder  they 
conimitted.     But  their  courage  was  unflinching. 

The  men  travelled  night  after  night  up  the 
rocky  banks  of  a  river,  and  day  after  day  lay 
hidden  in  deep  wooded  places.  Several  times  they 
reached  "stations,"  where  "Eed  String"  help 
and  advice  were  freely  given.  At  one  place  an 
old  'miller  responded  to  their  ^hail  at  midnight 
and  ferried  them,  one  by  one,  in  a  little  dug- 
out canoe,  across  a  wide  river  through  noisy, 
roaring  rapids,  and  past  dangerous  rocks.  At  each 
"station"  they  were  told  in  whispers  the  name  of 
the  next— sometimes  the  distance  to  a  "station" 
was  fifteen  or  twenty  miles,  and  sometimes  flfty 
or  a  hundred.  Great  divergence  from  a  direct 
course  had  to  be  made  at  times  to  avoid  camps 
and   garrisoned    towns. 

After  170  miles  had  been  traversed  in  this  way 
a  chilMng  rainstorm  came  on,  and  for  days  and 
nights  raged  with  unabated  fury.  The  little  band 
encountered  mountain  brooks  which  had  become 
raging  rivers.  Their  wgt  and  tattered  uniforms 
clung  about  them  with  a  coldness  which  seemed 
to  benumb  their  very  hearts.  Their  small  stock 
ol  food  became  wet  and  sodden,  and  in  their  dire 
necessity,  with  aching  limbs  and  eyes  dull  and 
heavy  for  want  of  sleep,  in  a  scantily  timbered 
place  with  flint  and  steel  they  buUt  a  fire  rather 
than  perish.  The  fatal  glare  of  that  camp  fire  on 
ft  dark  and  stormy  night  was  a  beacon  light  to  the 


foe.  With  the  first  faint  streak  of  day  the  morn- 
ing winds  brought  to  the  prisoners'  listening  ears, 
the  deep  bay  of  hounds  and  the  echoing  sounds. 
of  a  huntsman's  horn.  A  little  while  later  they 
met  a  terrified  slave  who  warned  them  that  blood- 
hounds in  charge  of  a  party  of  soldiers  were  in 
pursuit  of  them. 

With  what  exciting  pleasure  the  practised 
slavers,  who  had  all  their  lives  trained  the  savage 
brutes  to  hunt  the  black  man,  now  urged  the 
chase  for  Mgher  game.  The  prisoners  wished  no- 
further  warning.  Wet  and  cold  were  forgotten, 
and  excitement  sparkled  in  every  eye.  They 
plunged  through  thickets,  waded  down  streams 
and  dragged  cedar  boughs  behind  them  to  baffle 
the  keen-scented  brutes.  On  they  pushed  with  a 
strength  and  endurance  begotten  of  rest  and  kind 
treatment  among  loyal  friends.  Now  they  knew 
that  not  only  the  hostUe  Indians  ahead  of  them 
would  be  on  the  alert,  but  that,  if  they  baffled  the 
bloodhounds,  their  pursuers  would  probably  still 
follow  the  course  they  had  been  taking  toward 
the  Great  Smoky  Mountains.  Still  dragging  ther 
cedar  branches  they  filed  off  to  the  left  and,  mak- 
ing a  wide  detour,  came  back  to  their  last  camp- 
ing place  and  travelled  backward  on  the  broad 
trail  of  their  pursuers.  As  they  diverged  again 
from  the  trail,  to  a  westward  course  the  baying 
of  the  hounds  and  echoes  of  the  horn  grew  fainter 
and  fainter,  and  finally  ceased  to  be  heard.  Still 
they  travelled  on,  and  when  the  pitch-black  and 
stormy  night  came  again  they  believed  that  many 
miles  had  been  placed  between  them  and  danger. 
When  they  could  no  longer  tell  which  way  they 
were  going  they  sought  shelter  and  rest  in  a 
farmhouse  whose  tempting  light  invited  them. 
After  drying  their  uniforms,  too  weary  to  want 
for  food,  they  cast  themselves  upon  the  floor- 
before  a  blazing  hearth  and  slept. 

KECAPTURED. 

Before  day  the  house  was  surrounded  by  a? 
company  of  soldiers  and  they  were  again  made 
prisoners  of  war— finding  out  too  late  that  like 
lost  men  they  had  tra^'elled  another  great  circuit 
and  come  within  the  lines  of  the  enemy.  They 
received  courteous  treatment  from  the  Confed- 
erate captain,  who  extracted  only  their  word  of 
honor  to  give  him  no  trouble  by  trying  to  escape; 
This  was  freely  given.  Wliile  breakfast  was  being 
prepared  the  prisoners  noticed  that  many  of 
their  captors  would  frequently  stroke  their  beards 
with  their  hands,  and  some  few  without  beards 
would  stroke  their  chins.  The  captives  at  last,- 
pushing  back  the  locks  from  their  temples,  gave 
the  answering  sign";  and  lo!  they  found  these 
men  in  Confederate  gray  were  "Eed  Strings." 

Officers  and  men  treated  the  prisoners  with  kind- 
ness; and  had  it  been  in  their  power  they  would 
have  saved  the  prisoners  much  subsequent  suffer- 
ing at  the  Salisbury  stockade  and  in  other  prisonSi, 
The  many  thousands  who  died  in  prison  from 
starvation  and  brutal  treatment,  at  which  men 
high  in  authority  at  the  Confederate  capital  must 
certainly  have  connived,  it  is  not  my  purpose  to 
dwell  upon.  There  are  volumes  now  giving  the 
facts  of  this  damnable  crime.     And  tlie  mounds  o2 


TEUE    STORIES    OF    THE    WAR    FOR    THE    UNION. 


8T 


dead  men's  boues  at  Andersonville,  Salisbury  and 
elsewhere  attest  tlie  truth. 

From  their  captors  the  prisoners  learned  that 
their  pursuers  had  given  up  the  chase  and  re- 
turned to  camp,  as  the  bloodhounds,  for  some 
strange  reason,  had  been  constantly  at  fault,  and 
could  not  keep  the  trad.  But  finally  they  had 
teen  betrayed  by  the  man  -with  whom  they  had 
taken  shelter. 

Tlie  storm  rolled  away  and  the  sun  rose  warm 
and  glorious  as  if  to  mock  the  prisoners  in  their 
calamity.  A  few  hours'  march  under  guard 
brought  the  party  to  a  little  mountain  town 
wliich  no  Federal  soldiers  Had  yet  entered,  and 
where  the  people  could  only  judge  of  war 
by  the  scarcity  of  luxuries  and  the  vacant 
places  in.  their  homes.  To  the  courthouse, 
where  they  were  held  under  guard,  the  popula- 
tion thronged  to  see  the  Yankees.  Great  was 
their  surprise.  Instead  of  vDlanous-looking  out- 
throats,  "vile  scum,"  they  found  beardless  young 
men,  or  boys,  to  wliom  a  night's  rest  and  a  good 
breakfast  had  restored  their  buoyancy  of  spirits 
and  a  disposition  rightly  to  take  a  soldier's 
fortune,  come  as  it  might.  Many  a  bright-eyed, 
rosy-cheeked  youii^  rebel  gave  them  admiring 
glances;  and  all  the  people  "vaed  with  the  cap- 
tain and  his  guards  in  treating  the  prisoners  with 
Icindness  and  courtesy. 

After  being  searched  and  heard  before  a  pro- 
vost marshal,  the  prisoners  were  sent  under  guard 
to  Charlotte,  where  they  were  gratuitously  in- 
formed by  an  officer  with  a  star  on  his  collar 
"  that  they  would  not  be  exchanged,  but  would 
be  held  until  the  war  should  close,  because  of 
their  attempt  to  escape."  Tlie  prisoners  retorted 
that  "  from  the  present  signs  the  war  would  end 
very  soon,  and,  thanks  be  to  God,  in  the  right  way— 
a  good  and  deserved  thrashing  to  the  South." 

IN    A    SLAVE    PEN. 

For  two  days  and  nights  they  were  imprisoned 
at  Charlotte  in  a  slave  pen,  a  brick  buildiug 
about  sixteen  by  twenty  feet  square,  with,  one 
«mall  window  or  opening  six  inches 'high  and  two 
feet  wide,  fifteen  feet  from  the  floor.  Around 
the  pen  lay  scores  of  cotton  bales,  torn,  scattered 
and  trampled  in  the  mire.  Cotton  had  ceased 
to  1)6  Jdng,  and  tiliat;  gloomy  slavjC  pen' 
was  destined  no  more  to  resound  with  the  clanking 
chains,  the  sighs  and  groans  of  black  men  torn 
from  their  wives  and  children  and  doomed  to  exile 
and  bondage  in  the  miasoiatic  lowlands  of  Ala- 
bama and  Mississippi. 

Into  this  suffocating  pen  the,  prisoners  were 
packed  with  forty  of  the  famous  Wheeler  outlaws, 
whom  a  fellow-feeling  for  others  in  durance  vile 
made  wondrous  kind,  for  they  swept  one  corner 
clean  and,  under  guard,  brought  in  cotton  and 
■piled  it  waist  deep  in  order  thai  the  newcomers 
might  sleep  warm  and  comfortably.  They  also 
refrained  from  ribald  and  profane  talk,  and  in 
homely  Southern  styfe  told  many  amusing  anec- 
dotes of  their  adventures. 

With  gifts  of  tobacco  and  corn-bread  from  the 
outlaws  and  good  wishes  to  them  in  return  the 
six  Federal  prisoners  were  then  escorted  to  the 
Salisbury  stockade. 


BACK    AMONG    THE    DEAD. 

How  gloomy  that  old  prison  wa«  I  The  thousands 
of  dead— a  magnificent  army  of  11,700— lay  corded 
many  deep  iu  trenches  not  occupying  a  half  acre 
of  ground.  The  few  thousand  living  had  been 
paroled  under  a  new  cartel  and  gone  home  to  be 
nursed  back  to  health  by  loving  kindred.  Tiie 
old  tall,  windowless  factory  and  the  many  deserted 
caves  and  pits  in  the  soggy  ground  made  a  dis- 
mal picture.  The  shattered,  scarred  and  broken 
trees  recalled  the  terrible  §5th  of  November,  when 
prisoners  (day  jby  day  had  Ijeen  dying  from 
Imnger  by  hundreds,  and  the  poor,  miser- 
able, unarmed  living  made  a  feeble  effort  to  break 
through  the  palisades  for  food,  and  when  cannons 
above  them,  behind  them,  in  front  of  them,  vol- 
leyed and  thundered  and  fed  poor  starving  men 
with  iron. 

Here,  by  the  arrival  of  seven  more  men  who 
had  taken  part  in  the  mad  charge  for  freedomj 
the  band  was  increased  to  thirteen,  an  ominoug 
number,  and  the  last  of  the  old  prisoners  of  war. 
The  unlucky  thirteenth,  Major  Duval  English,  of 
the  11th  Kentucky  Cavalry,  had  gained  the  sum- 
mit of  the  Great  Smoky  Mountains,  and  while 
gazing  down  into  "the  promised  land"— Tennes- 
see--was  recaptured  by  Indiana,  who  cut  off  his 
gilt  buttons  and  as  an  even  "  swap"  decorated 
his  coat  from  collar  to  tail  by  closely  cut  slits 
tied  with  bucl^skin  strings^ 

mhe  near  approach  of  Federal  cavalry  raiders 
forced  a  removal  of  the  prisoners,  together  with 
some  others  lately  captured  from  Sherman's  army, 
to  an  old  tobacco  factory  in  Danville,  Va.,  where 
some  of  them  had  spent  the  4th  of  July  the 
year  before.  From  there  on  again  to  Libby 
Prison,  Riclimond,  the  last  stronghold.  Here 
through  the  bars  of  their  prison  they  watched 
all  the  day  the  long  dusty  lines  of  graj'  marchins: 
in  full  retreat  from  the  Confederate  capital. 

JOT    TOO    GKEAT    FOR    WORDS. 

In  the  afternoon  of  that  memorable  Sunday- 
April  2,  1865— the  doors  of  old  Libby  were  thrown 
open  to  give  freedom  to  her  last  lot  of  captives. 
The  fliag-of-truce  steamer  carried  them  to  Aiken's 
Landing,  and  they  saw  across  the  river's  bend 
the  grand  old  flag,  fire  cleansed  and  purified  and 
waving  gloriously  in  the  evening  sunlight.  The 
lately  captured  men  (or  in  prison  parlance  "the 
fresh  fish")  shouted  and  danced  with  joy.  But; 
the  long-time  prisoners— the  poor  "old  dried  cods" 
—could  not  do  that.  A  choking  lump  came  into 
their  throats,  and  one  by  one  they  strayed  apart 
and  made  a  mighty  struggle  to  keep  back  their 
tears. 

With  the  fall  of  Richmond  the  wires  flashed  to 
that  old  mother  in  the  far  North  that  her  boy 
was  still  living.  And  when  he  hurried  to  her 
arms  she  fell  ui)on  his  neck  and  wept,  and,  like 
Jacob  of  old,  she  cried:  "Now  let  me  die,  since 
I  have  seen  thy  face,  because  thou  art  yet  alive." 

Tlie  reader  must  bear  in  mind  that  it  was  no 
light  risk  which  men  iu  the  South  took  upon 
tliemselves  to  join  the  "  Red  Strings,"  and  to  har- 
bor and  befriend  Union  prisoners.  When  dis- 
covered, they  were  put  to  a  most  degrading  death. 

That  dear  old  mother  has  now  been  peacefully; 


;tS 


LIBRABY    OF    TEJIBryZ    EXTRAS. 


skepin^  for  many  long  years.  But  in  hex  dying 
fiayers  ste  called  to  God  lor  M?  richest  blessings 
mpma.  thoee  Southern  people  who  had  saved  the 
life  of  h^  son-  That  son  is  now  growing  old, 
■with  silTery  hairs  streaking  his  head ;  bat  while 
life  shall  last  he  will  revere,  honor  and  love  the 
loyal  -Bed  Ssings."— <S.  T.  Mafflj. 


FIRST      EXFEP.;z:-:Z; 


PETEESBTBS. 


Captives  ox  picket  dutt— a  dat  os  two  op 

IXTESiE     STSAIX     AXD    AdiViTV      PSE- 

CEDEffG     THE     LOXG-     vtASCHES 

AJJTD    HARD    FIGHXPr^. 

Couage  Grove,  Ore.,  Feb.  10.— Well,  here  I  was 
■on  picket,  a  sergeant  in  Company  H,  5  th  Wieeon- 
sin  Infantry  A.  dark  and  rainy  night,  just  the 
time  for  a  boy's  mind  to  wander  back  to  home 
and  his  mother,  and  to  picture  seenes  of  happiness 
-and  eomfort  there  and  wonder  how  long  the  ouel 
war  would  last.  I  was  called  baek  to  the  pres- 
ent ataation  by  the  dbaDaige  of  "Down,  Tanks, 
^we  tnra  Is  going  to  shoot."  "Bang I'  "Zip!"' 
-casae  a  Tninie  ball  right  over  our  head*  '^  To 
-arras  ajod  get  to  the  vidette  poet,'  was  tiie  order. 
A  few  more  diots  were  fired,  and  the  craeking  of 
the  bni^  indicated  the  arrival  of  a  "Johnny' 
•deserter. 

~  Halt,  who  eemes  there?" 

"Oh,  it  is  we  tma.  We"er  tired  of  fighting 
you.'ne.  And  ^ky,  Yanks,  have  yon  got  any  ter- 
baei^'  about  your  old  clothes?  Fd  like  a  chaw 
mighty  wefl." 

~  All  right,  Johnny,"  was  the  reply,  ~  here's 
yer  backer.  Are  there  any  more  coming  to- 
night?" 

"Wall,  yes:  there  is  a  right  smart  lot  on  'em 
that  TloweJ  to  come  over,  if  the  guard  didn't 
^ooi  'an:  but  when,  they  hollec  "D-jw-n,  Yanks, 
we'^  going  to  dioot!'  you  can  eakerlate  that 
they'er  snag  ter  sho«>t  deserters  ana  not  you'ne.'' 

Our  eampSre  was  soon  <Miee  niore  Wazins  high 
and  all  was  quiet  on  the  Potomac  except  for  the 
lone  sentinel's  tread  and  the  patter  of  the  rain  on 
our  gum  blankets.  The  night  wore  on  and  day 
dawned  at  last,  and  ^•e  martihed  our  iHisooers  to 
headquarters.  That  wag  jdj  initiation  on  fiekeA 
in  front  of  Petersburg,  Ya. 

My  lirst  battle  occurred  the  t.ext  jueraatg  after 
I  w«  rr-eaaed  from  picket,  and  took  place  just 
as  the  gray  s^rtaks  of  J  awn  weae  breaking  Ae 
east^n  ^vy.  '^Boaml'*  -west  a  eannon  down  at 
Fort  S<»  li.'-WiCk  t-o  our  ri_'ht.  I  cooked  my  eoSee 
and  bacon ;  made  my  tent  mate  turn  oat,  and  we 
thai  ate  oar  breakfat>t.  We  had  just  swallowed 
our  last  bite  when  the  long  roll  beat,  and  we 
were  ready  for  bosineaBL  I  never  before  had  seen 
such  serambling  and  getting  into  ranks.  Some 
of  the  men  w€ie  bareheaded  and  barefooted. 

•*  Get  on  your  clothes  and  cartridge  boxes,  and  jret 
yoar  guns,"  came  the  eonunand  from  our  orderly 
sergeant.  "You  are  a  pretty  looking  outfit  to  go 
into  battle  with." 

EoU  was  called.  All  except  one  answaed 
"  Here.''     Doe    man    was    miiaang ;    no    fight    in 


We  marched  to  our  parade-ground,  where  our 
^and  wail  playing  and  the  flag  flying  in  the  breeze. 
Colonel  Allen  rode  up  on  his  priincirig  black  horse, 
and  said:  "Well,  boys,  we  are  going  to  have  a 
little  fun  to-day  I  should  think,  judging  from 
the  music  they  are  making  down  at  Fort  Hell." 

We  made  quick  time  to  the  fort  named,  pacing 
many  a  manned  and  bleeding  comrade.  We 
were  drawn  up  in  line  of  battle  as  a  reserve, 
and  hdd  ibeie  until  10  o'clock  a.  m.  There  was 
a  goienl  oigagement  all  along  the  line.  -  Zip :" 
"Zip."'  how  Hie  minie  balls  whistled:  and  those 
horrid  shells,  how  th^  screame-d  and  moaned :  We 
were  held  und«r  fire  until  the  battle  was  won 
and  TOO  prisoners  were  takeu- 

But,  hark:  Away  to  the  left  a  fiercer  battle 
was  then  raging.  "About  face:  double  ouiek; 
march:"  Back  past  our  camp  we  flew,  halting 
long  enough  to  get  our  haversacks,  and  then 
rushing  on  to  Fort  Fish^.  We  were  drawn  up 
in  Hue  behind  the  breastworks,  expectins  that 
they  would  attack  us.  On  the  contrary,  however. 
we  had  to  leave  our  breastworks  and  attack  th-m. 
charging  acroes  a  eouon  field  and  through  a  smaU 
Piece  of  woods.  We  came  out  into  the  next 
fieid,  gave  a  yell,  and  charged  forward.  The 
rebels  fell  b^ek  to  the  hills-  "Steady,  boys," 
commanded  Colonel  Allen :  and  our  line  closed  up 
and  rushed  on  in  a  doable  quick  to  the  next  belt 
of  timber,  where  shot  and  sheU  were  making 
havoc  in  the  treetope.  We  were  then  drawn  up 
m  line  of  battle  just  at  the  foot  of  the  hill,  our 
skirmish  line  being  in  rifle  pits  at  the  brow  of 
thehffl. 

Our  Colonel  was  placed  in  command  of  the 
brigade  and  our  Lieutenant-Colonel  in  command 
of  our  regiment.  Tlie  latter  came  ridins  up  and 
ordered  two  compani^^  of  our  regiment  out  to 
the  skirmish  line.  Some  of  tie  boys  were  trving 
to  dodge  the  minie  ball-.  But  oar  commander 
said.  "There  e  no  ust  rlodging:  you  are  just  as 
apt  to  dodge  in  front  of  a  haU  as  to  dodge  a^ray 
from  It."  Just  then  a  shell  came  screaming  over- 
head, low  down,  and  our  Lieutenant-Colonel 
ducked  his  head,  whereupon  some  one  rfiouted, 
"What  makes  you  dodge.  Colonel?'  "Oh,  yoa 
can  dodge  the  big  ones,"  he  said.  He  put  spurs 
to  his  horse  and  went  down  the  line  bareheade<i. 
How  the  bullets  whistled  through  the  trees  1 
Charge  after  charge  was  made  upon  us,  and  every 
time  the  Johanies  vyere  diiven  back.  We  held  the 
situation  until  darkceas  came. 

We  then  had  orders  to  fall  bask  to  the  edge 
of  the  woods  and  throw  up  breastworks,  which 
we  did  by  straightening  logs  out  ia  line  and 
digging  up  dirt  with  our  bayonets  and  tin  plates, 
being  sparred  on  by  the  shot  and  shell.  We 
soon  had  a  trench  dug  big  enough  to  crawl 
into,  and  there,  tired  and  hungry,  we  lay  listening 
to  the  mournful  talcs  of  the  wounded  out  in 
front  for  "-a^tor,  woter."  We  had  no  water  to 
give  fEem.  At  midnight  we  wore  given  orders 
to  fall  back  to  camp,  and  th^r-r  ^"  lay  quiet 
until  the  battle  of  Petersburg. 

Then  came  the  long,  hard,  forced  marshes  and 
hard  fighting.-  iF.  E.  Mill-^,  Sergeant  Company 
H,  5th  Wisconsin  Infancy. 


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